«% 


PHILOSOPHICAL 


AND 


PRACTICAL   TREATISE 


ON    THE 


Will 


BY  THOMAS  C.  UPHAM, 

PROFESSOR    OF    MENTAL    AND    MORAL,    PHILOSOPHY    IN 

V-^  or  THE    '^''^  \ 

»ORTLAND, 

PUBLISHED  BY  WILLIAM  HYDE, 

FOR  Z.  HYDE. 

1834. 


EDUC. 

PSYCH. 

ilBRARY 


Entered,  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year   1834,  by 
Thomas  C.  Upham,  A.  M. 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Mame. 


%J"-^^ 


JOSEPH    GRIFFIN,  PRINTER, 

BRUNSWICK:,  ME. 


PREFACE. 


In  offering  to  the  public  the  following  Treatise  on  the  Will, 
I  am  obliged  to  presume,  in  no  small  degree,  on  its  forbear- 
ance and  candour.  It  is  a  subject,  which,  in  some  of  its  ap- 
plications, has  been  so  long  connected  with  Theological  con- 
troversies, that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  write  upon  it,  without 
exciting  the  suspicion,  that  the  discussion  will  assume  a  party 
character.  I  hope  the  reajler  will  do  me  the  justice  in  the  out- 
set to  believe,  that  my  object  is  not  a  party  one,  and  that  the 
ascertainment  of  truth  is  my  only  aim.  If  he  will  take  the 
trouble  carefully  to  read  the  Treatise  through,  as  I  hope  he 
will  before  pronouncing  an  opinion  upon  it,  I  anticipate  the 
pleasure  of  standing  fair  in  his  estimation,  as  a  candid  inquir- 
er after  the  truth,  whether  I  have  been  successful  in  my  efforts 
or  not. 

I  presume  the  reader,  and  the  public  generally,  will  agree 
with  me  in  the  admission,  that  the  subject  of  the  Will  is  one 
of  great  importance,  both  theoretically  and  practically.  And 
yet  there  can  be  no  hesitation  in  saying,  that  it  has  never  re- 
ceived that  attention  from  mental  philosophers,  which  is  due  to 
it.  In  those  various  Schools  of  philosophy,  which  from  time 
to  time  sprung  up  among  the   ancient  Greeks  and  Romans,  it 


iv  PREFACE. 

seems   almost  wholly  to   have  escaped  notice ;  their   specula- 
tions, so  far  as  they  related  to  the  nature  of  the  mind,  being 
principally  taken  up  with  inquiries  into  the  origin  of  knowledge 
and  the  nature  of  virtue.     From  the  earlier  English  writers  on 
the  mind,  Hobbes,  Cudworth,  Butler,  Baxter,  and   others,  al- 
though it  was   not  wholly  passed  by,  it  received  no  attention 
worthy  of  particular  notice  at  the  present  time,  and  in  the  pres- 
ent advanced  state  of  mental  science.  Mr.  Locke,  however,  who 
has  treated  of  this  subject  incidentally  in  his  chapter  on  Pow- 
er, entered  upon  its  investigation  with  his  accustomed  ability; 
and,  as  his  views  were  givien  in  the   later  editions  of  his  Essay 
on   the   Human  Understanding,  they  were  greatly  in  advance 
of  any  thing,  that   had   been  written  before.     There  are  also 
some  valuable  remarks  on  the  Will  in  Dr.  Reid's  writings;  but 
he  takes,  on  the  whole,  but  a  limited  view  of  it.     Mr.  Stewart 
throws  his   observations,  which   are   not  numerous  and  which 
consist  rather  of  criticisms  on  the  opinions  of  others,  than  of  a 
decided    and  systematic   expression   of  his  own,  into  an  Ap- 
pendix. The  learned  and  able  Inquiry  into  the  Will  of  President 
Edwards  does  not  profess  to  go  over  the  whole  ground,  and  to 
exhaust  the  whole    subject;  but    on  the  contrary,   as  appears 
from  the  very   title  page,    is   limited   to  a  particular  aspect  or 
view  of  it,  viz,  that  Freedom  of  the  Will,  which  is  supposed  to 
be  essential  to  moral  agency,  virtue  and  vice,  reward  and  pun- 
ishment, praise  and  blame. 

But  I  would  not  be  understood  to  make  these  remarks  in 
the  way  of  complaint.  It  could  hardly  be  expected  to  be  oth- 
erwise. An  examination  into  the  will  naturally  comes  last  in 
order  in  all  inquiries  into  the  mind.  The  questions  relative  to 
the  origin  of  knowledge  and  the  intellectual  part  of  our  consti- 
tution come  first  in  order;  and  these  are  questions,  which  are 
not  settled  without  much  care  and  labour.  The  natural  order 
'of  inquiry  then  brings  us  to  the  Sensibilities  or   sentient  states 


PREFACE.  V 

of  the  mind,  in  distinction  from  the  intellectual,  viz,  the  various 
forms  of  emotion  and  desire  and  feelings  of  moral  obligation. 
These  must  be  examined  and  understood  also,  as  well  as  the 
intellectual  part.  Until  mental  philosophy  is  in  some  degree 
satisfactorily  established  in  these  great  departments,  the  doc- 
trine of  the  will,  although  it  may  be  a  matter  of  conjecture, 
cannot  be  fully  and  correctly  ascertained.  But  this  period  has 
arrived ;  and  there  is  no  longer  any  excuse  for  permitting  this 
important  inquiry  to  remain  neglected.  The  subject  is  one  of 
wide  extent,  perhaps  more  so  than  has  sometimes  been  imagin- 
ed; and  one  too,  which  admits  of  various  and  important  practi- 
cal applications.  My  examination  of  it  may  be  imperfect, 
(and  in  truth,  considering  the  variety  of  topics  embraced  in  it, 
cannot  well  be  otherwise j)  and  yet  I  cannot  but  indulge  the 
hope,  that  some  obscurities  have  been  cleared  up,  that 
some  leading  principles  have  been  established,  and  that  the 
subject  is  placed  in  various  respects  in  a  satisfactory  light. 
But  of  this  the  candid  reader,  who  will  take  the  trouble  to  ex- 
amine with  suitable  care  what  has  been  written,  will  be  able  to 
form  a  more  accurate  judgment  for  himself. 

THOMAS  C.  UPHAM; 

Bowdoin  College,  May,  1834. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  FIRST. 

GENERAL  NATURE  OF  THE 
WILL. 

Chap.  I. — classification  of  the 

MENTAL  POWERS. 

SECT. 

Of  the  method  of  inquiry  proper 
to  be  pursued  1 

The  will  should  be  examined  in 
connection  with  other  parts  of 
the  mind  2 

The  states  of  the  mind  may  be  re- 
garded in  a  threefold  view  3 

Evidence  of  the  general  arrange- 
ment from  consciousness  4 

Evidence  of  the  same  from  terms 
found  in  different  languages  5 

Evidence  from  incidental  remarks 
in  writers  6 

Consciousness  alone  not  sufficient 
to  give  a  full  knowledge  of  the 
mind  7 

Further  proof  from  various  writers 
on  the  mind  8 

Of  the  consideration  due  to  the 
opinions  of  able  and  professed 
inquirers  into  the  mind  9 

A  knowledge  of  the  will  implies  a 
preliminary  knowledge  of  the 
intellect  10 

Implies  a  preliminary  knowledge 


also  of  the  sensibilities  11 

II. RELATION  OF  THE  INTEL- 
LECT   TO    THE    WILL. 

A  connection  existing  among  all 
the  parts  and  powers  of  the 
mind  12 

The  intellectual  part  the  founda- 
dation  or  basis  of  the  others  13 

The  connection  of  the  understand- 
ing with  the  will  shown  from  its 
connection  with  action  14 

Further  proof  from  an  observation 
of  the  conduct  of  men  15 

Of  the  nature  of  the  connection  be- 
tween the  understanding  and 
will  16 

Of  the  opinions  of  Mr.  Locke  on 
this  point  17 

Opinions  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh 
on  the  same  subject  18 

The  understanding  reaches  the 
will  through  the  sensibilities         19 

The  acts  of  the  intellect  the  direct 
antecedents  to  emotions  20 

Einotions  change  with  changes  of 
the  intellectual  perceptions  21 

The  powers  of  the  will  not  per- 
fectly correspondent  to  those  of 
the  intellect  22 

An  energetic  will  sometimes  found 
in  connection  with  limited  pow- 
ers of  intellect  23 


CONTENTS. 


VII 


III. — RELATION  OF  THE  SENSIBIL- 
ITIES   TO    THE  WILL. 

General  statement  in  explanation 
of  the  term  sensibilities  24 

Of  what  are  strictly  included  un- 
der the  sensibilities  25 

Acts  of  the  intellect  in  immediate 
proximity  with  emotions  26 

Emotions  not  in  proximity  with 
volitions  27 

Emotions  followed  by  desires  and 
feelings  of  obligation  28 

Further  remarks  on  obligatory 
feelings  29 

Desires  and  obligatory  feelings  m 
contact  with  the  will  30 

Opinions  of  metaphysical  writers 
on  the  foregoing  statements  31 

Of  the  strength  of  the  desires  32 

Of  the  strength  of  feelings  of  obli- 
gation 33 

Of  the  influence  of  the  sensibilities 
on  the  understanding  34 

IV. — VOLITIONS  OR  VOLUNTARY 
STATES  OF  MIND. 


The  necessity  of  that  controlling 

power  which  exists  in  the  will 
The  harmony  of  the  mind  secured 

by  the   superintendence  of  the 

will 
Remarks  on  the  nature  of  the  will 
Of  the  nature  of  the  acts   of  the 

will  or   volitions 
Volition     never    exists    without 

some  object 
It  exists  only  in  reference  to  what 

we  believe  to  be  in  our  power 
Volition  relates  to  our  own  action 

and  to  whatever   else   may  be 

dependent  upon  us 
Volitions   may  exist  with  various 

degrees  of  strength 
Causes   of  the  variation   of  the 

strength  of  the  voluntary  exer- 
cise 
Of  preference  or   indifFerency  as 

applicable  to  the  will 


35 


41 


42 


43 


44 


V. DISTINCTION     BETWEEN     DE- 
SIRES AND  VOLITIONS. 

Of  an  objection  sometimes  made 
to  the  general  arrangement  45 

Probable  cause  of  desires  and  vo- 
litions being  confounded  46 

The  distinction  of  desires  and  vo- 
litions asserted  by  consciousness     47 

Desires  differ  from  volitions  in  fix- 
edness and  permanency  48 

Further  proof  of  this  distinction 
from  language  49 

Sentiments  of  esteem  and  honour 
often  imply  this  distinction  50 

Of  some  strictures  on  the  foregoing 
remarks  of  Reid  51 

Volitions  may  exist  in  respect  to 
those  complex  acts  which  the 
mind  can  embrace  as  one  52 

If  the  distinction  in  question  do 
not  exist,  the  foundation  of  mor- 
als becomes  unsettled  53 

Instances  in  illustration  of  the  dis- 
tinction in  question.  54 

Additional  instances  in  illustration 
and  proof  55 

The  subject  further  illustrated  by 
the  voluntary  death  of  the  Sag- 
untines  56 

Of  the  chastisements  of  the  Su- 
preme Being  inflicted  on  those 
he  loves  57 

Objected  that  these  views  lead  to 
contradictions  58 

Opinions  of  Mr.  Locke  on  this 
subject  68 

PART  SECOND. 

LAWS  OF  THE  WILL. 

CHAP  I. UNIVERSALITY  OF  LAW. 


The  preceding  chapters  preparato- 
ry to  what  follows 

Of  the  importance  of  the  topics 
now  entered  upon 

The  inquiry,  whether  the  will  has 
its  laws,  preliminary  to  that  of 


59 


60 


yiii 


CONTENTS. 


jts  freedom  61 

Every  thing  throughout  nature  has 

its  laws  62 

Reference  to  remarks  of  Cicero  on 

the  universality  of  law  63 

Reference  to  remarks  of  Hooker 

on  the  universality  of  law  64 

The  universality  of  law  implied   in 

the  belief  of  a  Divine  exist- 

tence  65 

J^  presumption   thus  furnished  in 

favour  of  the  subjection  of  the 
will  to  law  66 


II. LAW  OF    CAUSALITY. 

Of  certain  laws  or  principles  which 

extend  to  all  classes  of  objects  67 
A  belief  in  the  law  of  causation 

founded  in  the  peculiar  structure 

of  the  human  mind  68 

Of  the  universality  of  the  law  of 

causation  69 

Of  the  classification  into  Effective 

and  Preparative  causes  70 

Opinions  of  various  philosophers 

on  this  subject  71 

Opinions  of  President  Edwards  on 

this  subject  72 

Of  the  results  of  a  denial  of  this 

proposition  73 

The  truth  of  the  proposition  under 

consideration  implied  in  the  fact 

of  a  Supreme  existence  or  Deity  74 
Application   of  thq  views  of  this 

chapter  to  the  will  75 

III. LAW  OF  UNIFORMITY. 

Belief  of  men  in  the  continued  uni- 
formity of  nature's  operations        76 

The  belief  exists  in  reference  to 
mind  as  well  as  matter  77 

Circumstances  under  which  this 
belief  arises  78 

Of  the  ,true  idea  of  chance,  in  dis- 
tinction from  uniformity  79 

•Grounds  or  foundation  of  this  be- 
lief 80 


Reference  to  the  opinions  of  Reid 
and  Abercrombie  81 

Application  of  these  views  to  the 
will  8?. 

Of  an  objection  to  these  views 
drawn  from  the  conduct  of  men     83 

IV.— LAWS  OF  THE  WILL  IMPLIED 
IN  MORAL  GOVERNMENT. 

Of  the  existence  of  a  moral  gov- 
ernment 84 

Laws  of  the  will  deducible  from 
the  first  principles  of  moral  gov- 
ernment 85 

Laws  of  the  will  inferred  from 
that  supremacy  dr  paramount 
authority,  which  is  implied  in  a 
moral  government  86 

Laws  of  the  will  inferred  from 
that  accountability  and  depen- 
dence, which  are  implied  in  a 
moral  government  87 

Inferred  also  from  the  fact,  that 
the  subject  of  a  moral  govern- 
ment must  be  endued  with  ade- 
quate powers  of  obedience"  88 

Laws  of  the  will  inferred  from 
that  rationality  which  is  essen- 
tial to  the  subjects  of  a  moral 
government  89 

Laws  of  the  will  inferred  from  the 
fact  that  in  the  administration 
of  a  moral  government  motives 
are  employed  90 

Inferred  also  from  the  application 
of  rewards  and  punishments  91 

The  same  inferred  from  the  fact, 
that  the  moral  government  of 
the  present  life  is  in  its  nature 
disciplinary  92 

That  the  will  has  laws  implied  in 
the  existence  of  virtue  and  vice     93 

V. LAWS    OF  THE    WILL  IMPLIED 

IN  THE    PRESCIENCE  OF  THE 
DEITY. 

The  notion  which  men  naturally 


CONTENTS. 


form  of  the  Deity  implies  fore- 
kno\yledge  94 

The  prescience  of  God  involved 
and  implied  in  his  omniscience     95 

The  prescience  of  God  directly 
taught  in  the  Scriptures  96 

The  foreknowledge  of  events  im- 
plies the  foreknowledge  of  vo- 
litions 97 

Of  the  reasonableness  of  the  fore- 
going views  98 

Application  of  these  views  to  the 
will  99 

The  views  of  this  chapter  in  har- 
mony with  the  doctrine  of  the 
influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit       100 

VI. LAWS  OF  THE  WILL  IMPLIED 

IN  THE  PRESCIENCE   OR  FORE- 
SIGHT OF  MEN. 

Man  as  well  as  Deity  susceptible 
of  foresight  101 

Prescience  or  foresight  of  men  in 
respect  to  their  own  situation 
and  conduct  102 

Foresight  of  men  in  respect  to 
the  conduct  of  others  103 

Other  familiar  instances  of-  this 
foresight  104 

Of  sagacity  in  the  estimate  of  in- 
dividual character  105 

Foresight  of  the  conduct  of  mas- 
ses of  men  and  nations  106 

Proof  from  the  regularity  obser- 
vable in  the  commission  of 
crime  107 


VII. LAWS  OF  THE  WILL  IMPLIED 

IN  THE  SCIENCES  RELATING 
TO  HUMAN  CONDUCT. 

Of  the  object  of  sciences  relating 
to  human  conduct  108 

Illustration  of  the  subject  from 
Political  PhUosophy  109 

Agreement  among  writers  who 
in  other  respects  differ  110 

Illustration  of  the  subject  from 
2 


History  ill 

-Illustration  of  the   subject  from 

Political  Economy  112 

Reference  to  Municipal  law  113 

Remarks  of  Beccaria  on  mildness 

0  f  punishments  114 

Reference  to  the  science  of  Edu- 
cation 115 
Illustration  of  the  subject  from 

Oratory  116 

Laws    of    the  will   implied   in 

Christian  Ethics  117 

Similar  views  applicable  in  other 

sciences  118 

VIII. OTHER  PROOFS  OF  LAWS  OF 

THE  WILL. 

The  subjection  of  the  will  to  law 
confirmed  by  consciousness         119 

Confirmed    by   the   fact  of  the 

y  will's  not  being  a  subject  but 
an  attribute  120 

The  same  confirmed  by  the  na- 
ture of  volition  .  121 

The  analogy  of  the  other  parts 
of  the  mind  furnishes  a  pre- 
sumption that  the  will  is  sub- 
ject to  law  122 

Proof  from  the  facts  developed 
in  history  123 

Proof  from  instances  of  predomi- 
nant passion  124 

The  subjection  of  the  will  to  law 
evinced  by  cases  of  casual  as- 
sociation 125 

Instances  illustrative  of  the  prece- 
ding section  126 

Remarks  in  conclusion  of  the  ar- 
gument 127 

IX. NATURE  AND  KINDS     OF  MO- 
TIVES. 

Connection  of  this  subject  with 
the  consideration  of  motives        128 

Of  the  divisions  of  motives  into 
Internal  and  External  129 

External  motives  derive  then:  efR- 


CONTENTS. 


cacy  from  the  mind 

The  character  of  motives  de- 
pends in  part  on  the  constitu- 
tional traits  of  the  individual         131 

Their  character  depends  in  part 
on  temporary  influences  132 

Further  division  of  motives  into 
Personal  and  Moral  133 

On  the  use  of  the  phrase  person- 
al motives  134 

The  appetites,  propensities,>  and 
affections  not  in  themselves  of 
a  moral  nature  135 

Motives  coextensive  with  voli- 
tions 136 

Nature  of  the  influence  of  motives    137 

Of  the  will's  being  governed  by 
the  strongest  motive  138 

Of  the  elements  of  the  contest 
within  139 


130    11. MENTAL    HARMONY  THE  BA- 
SIS OR  OCCASION  OF    ME^TTAI. 
FREEDOM. 


PART  THIRD. 


FREEDOM  OF  THE  WILL. 


Chap.  I. — nature    of    mental, 

FREEDOM. 

Of  bodily  in  distinction  from 
mental  freedom  140 

Of  unsuccessful  attempts  to  ex- 
plain the  nature  of  freedom         141 

Freedom  the  name  of  a  simple 
abstract  idea  142 

Occasions  of  the  origin  of  the 
abstract  idea  of  liberty  143 

Of  the  undefinableness  of  the 
term  freedom  144 

Supposed  definitions  of  freedom 
mere  synonyms  145 

Distinction  between  the  idea  and 
reality  of  liberty  146 

Of  the  source  of  our  knowledge 
of  liberty  itself  in  distinction 
from  the  abstract  idea  of  liberty     147 

Of  the  precise  import  of  the 
phrase  moral  liberty  1 48 


Statement  of  the  inquiry  in  this 

chapter 
Occasions  on  which  liberty  exists 
Of    the     circumstances     under 

which  this   mental   harmony 

may  be  expected  to  exist 
Opinions   of  Bishop   Butler  on 

conscience 
Reference  to  the  opinions  of  Dr. 

Price  on  this  subject 
Objected  that  perfect  harmony 

of  the  mind  is  not  realized  here 
Perfection   of  mental   harmony 

and  consequent  mental  liberty 

illustrated  from  the  character 

of  the  Savior 
Objected  that  the  foregoing  views 

are  necessarily  and   in   their 

very  terms  inconsistent  with 

liberty 


149 
150 


151 


152 


153 


154 


155 


156 


III. FREEDOM  OF  THE  WILL, 

Remarks  on  the  nature  of  the 
freedom  of  the  will  157 

Of  the  relation  of  the  freedom  of 
the  will  to  the  fact  of  its  sub- 
jection to  law  158 

Circumstances  or  occasions  un- 
der which  freedom  of  the  will 
exists  159 

Evidence  of  the  freedom  of  will 
from  consciousness  160 

Of  an  objection  to  the  argument 
from  consciousness  161 

Evidence  of  the  will's  freedom 
from  the  nature  of  motives         162 

Objected  that  the  will  is  necessa- 
rily governed  by  the  strongest 
motive  .  163 

IV. FREEDOM  OF    THE  WILL  IM- 
PLIED IN  man's  moral  nature. 


Remarks  on  the  nature  or  mode 
of  the  argument 


164 


C9NTE?^TS. 


Of  the  elements  of  man's  moral 
nature  165 

Evidence  of  freedom  of  the  will 
from  feelings  of  approval  and 
disapproval  166 

Proof  of  freedom  from  feelings 
of  remorse  167 

Without  the  possession  of  liber- 
ty of  will  man  could  never 
have  framed  the  abstract  no- 
tions of  right  and  wrong  168 

Proof  from  feelings  of  moral  ob- 
ligation 169 

Evidence  from  men's  views  of 
crimes  and  punishments  170 

Prevalent  opinions  of  mankind 
on  this  subject  171 

V. OTHER   PROOFS    OF     FREEDOM 

OF    THE  WILL. 


Evidence  of  the  freedom  of  the 
will  from  languages 

Evidence  from  the  occasional 
suspension  of  the  will's  acts 

Evidence  of  the  freedom  of  the 
will  from  the  control  which 
every  man  has  over  his  own 
motives  of  action 

The  freedom  of  the  will  further 
shown  from  the  attempts  of 
men  to  influence  the  conduct 
of  their  fellow-men 

Further  evidence  from  the  obser- 
vation of  men's  conduct 

Argued  further  from  the  view  ta- 
ken in  the  Scriptures 

Practical  importance  of  the  doc- 
trine of  liberty 


172 


173 


174 


175 


176 


177 


178 


VI. CONSISTENCY  OF     LAW     AND 

FREEDOM. 

Objected  that  the  views  maintain- 
ed are  contradictory  179 

Answered  that  they  result  neces- 
sarily from  the  evidence  180 

Denial  of  the  alledged  contradic- 
tion 181 

Admission  of  inexplicableness  or 


mystery  182 

Of  the  limited  powers  of  the  hu- 
man mind  183 

We  find  things  which  cannot  be 
explained  every  where  184 

Illustrated  from  the  influence  of 
one  man  over  another  185 

The  opposite  supposition  attend- 
ed with  equal  difficulty  186 

Both  views  are  to  be  fully  recei- 
ved 187 

The  doctrine  of  the  will's  free- 
dom equally  important  with 
that  of  its  subjection  to  law         188 

VII. ENTHRALMENT     OR  SLAVE- 
RY OF  THE  WILL. 


Of  the  occasions  of  mental  en- 
thralment 

Inability  to  define  enthralment  or 
slavery 

The  nature  of  mental  enthral- 
ment illustrated  by  a  reference 
to  extorted  promises 

Illustration  of  the  same  subject 
from  cases  of  torture 

Historical  illustrations  of  the  sub- 
ject 

The  will  enthralled  by  the  indul- 
gence of  the  appetites 

Enthralment  of  the  will  occasion- 
ed by  predominant  and  over- 
ruling propensities 

The  will  enthralled  by  inordi- 
nate ambition 

The  will  enslaved  by  the  indul- 
gence of  the  passions 

Inordinate  intensity  of  the  domes- 
tic affections 

Of  the  slavery  of  the  will  in  con- 
nection with  moral  accounta- 
bility 


189 


190 


191 


192 


193 


194 


195 


196 


197 


198 


199 


VIII. — ALIENATION  OR  INSANITY 
OF  THE  WILL. 


Insanity  predicable  of  all  the 

powers  of  the  mind 
Of  alienation  or  insanity  of  the 


200 


CONTENTS. 


will  201 

Another  instance  of  this  species 
of  insanity  202 

Of  insanity  of  the  will  in  con- 
nection with  cases  of  casual 
association  203 

Of  alienation  of  the  will  as  con- 
nected with  a  disordered  state 
or  alienation  of  belief  204 

Alienation  of  the  will  in  connec- 
tion with  melancholy  205 

Of  alienation  of  the  will  termed 

INCONSTANTIA  206 

Of  accountability  in  connection 
with  alienation  or  insanity  of 
the  will  207 


PART  FOURTH. 

POWER  O/  THE  WILL. 

Chap.   L — nature   of    mental 

POWER. 

Of  the  distinction  between  liber- 
ty and  power  208 

Proof  of  the  distinction  between 
liberty  and  power  209 

The  distinction  of  power  and  lib- 
erty involved  in  the  fact  of 
our  being  able  to  form  the  ab- 
stract ideas  of  power  and  lib- 
erty 210 

Distinction  of  powfer  and  liberty 
shown  from  language  211 

Further  shown  from  the  fact  of 
our  possessing  a  moral  nature     212 

Origin  of  the  idea  of  power  in 
Original  Suggestion  213 

Occasions  of  the  origin  of  the  idea 
of  power  214 

The  idea  of  power  involves  the 
reality  of  power  215 

Things  exist  which  are  not  made 
known  by  the  senses  216 

Of  power  as  an  attribute  of  the 
^Kiman  mind  217 


Further  shown  by  a  reference  to 
the  Divine  Mmd  2lS 

IL POWER  OF  THE  WILL. 

Proof  of  power  in  the  will  from 

«    the  analogy  of  the  mind  219 

The  power  of  the  will  restricted 
and  subordinate  220 

Proof  of  power  in  the  will  from 
internar  experience  221 

Proved  from  the  ability  which 
we  have  to  direct  our  attention 
to  particular  subjects  222 

Proof  of  power  in  the  will  from 
observation  223 

Of  power  of  the  will  as  exhibit- 
ed in  patience  under  suffering     224 

Illustration  of  the  subject  from 
the  command  of  temper  225 

Further  illustrations  of  this  sub- 
subject  226 

Proved  from  the  concealment  of 
the  passions  on  sudden  and 
trying  occasions  227 

Further  instances  of  concealment 
and  repression  of  the  passions     228 

Illustrated  from  the  prosecution 
of  some  general   plan  229 

The  subject  illustrated  from  the 
course  of  the  first  settlers  of 
New  England  230 

Illustrated  by  the  fortitude  ex- 
hibited by  Savages  231 

III. SELF-DETERMINING     POWER 

OF  THE  WILL. 

General  remarks  on  a  self-deter- 
mining power  232 

Of  a  self-determining  power  of 
the  mind  233 

Of  a  self-determining  power  of 
the  will  234 

Of  such  a  self-determining  pow- 
er of  the  will  as  involves  the 
dependence  of  the  present  vo- 
lition on  a  former  one  235 

Opinions  of  President  Edwards 
on  this  subject  236 


CONTENTS. 


XIII 


IV. —  DIFFERENCES    OP     VOLUNTA- 
RY POWER. 

Differences  in  voluntary  power 
seldom  noticed  237 

Remarks  on  constitutional  weak- 
ness of  the  will  238 

Of  comparative  or  relative  weak- 
ness of  the  will  239 

Instances  of  want  of  energy  of 
the  will  240 

Remarks  on  great  strength  of  the 
will  241 

Energy  of  the  will  as  displayed 
under  bodily  suffering  242 

Energy  of  the  will  as  shown  in 
imminent  danger  243 

Energy  of  the  will  as  shown  in 
martyrdoms  244 

Subject  illustrated  from  two  clas- 
ses of  public  speakers  245 

Power  of  the  will  requisite  in  the 
military  and  other  arts  246 

Energy  of  the  will  requisite  in 
the  men  of  revolutions  247 

Practical  application  of  these 
views  248 


v.— CONSISTENCY  OF  CHARACTER. 

Connection' of  the  philosophy  of 
the  will  with  consistency  of 
character  249 

Illustrations  of  the  inconsistent 
character  250 

Illustrations  of  the  consistent 
character  251 

Of   individuals   remarkable   for 

consistency  of  character  252 

Of  the  value  of  consistency  in 
the  religious  character  253 

Of  the  foundation  of  basis  of  con- 
sistency and  inconsistency  of 
character  254 

Of  inconsistency  of  belief  in  con-  I 

nection  with   inconsistency  of 
conduct  and  character  255  ' 


Self-possession  an  element  of 
consistency  of  character  256 

Consistency  implies  persever- 
ance under  changes  of  circum- 
stances 257 

Consistency  implies  a  control 
over  the  passions  258 

VI. DISCIPLINE     OF     THE     WILL. 

Importance  of  a  due  discipline 
of  the  voluntary  power  259 

A  due  balance  of  all  the  powers 
the  most  favourable  state  of 
things  to  the  just  exercise  of 
the  will  260 

Of  the  culture  of  the  appetitites, 
propensities,  and  passions  as 
auxiliary  to  the  discipline  of 
the  will  261 

Some  instances  and  proofs  of  the 
foregoing  statements  262 

Importance  of  repressing  the  out- 
ward signs  of  the  passions  263 

Of  enlightening  the  intellect  in  con- 
nection with  the  discijpline  of 
the  will  •  264 

Further  remarks  on  the  same  sub- 
ject 265 

Of  aiding  the  will  by  a  reference 
to  the  regard  of  others  266 

Of  aiding  the  will  by  a  reference 
to  conscience  267 

Of  the  aids  furnished  by  the  prin- 
ciple of  imitation  268 

Of  aiding  the  wUl  by  placing  our- 

self  in  circumstances  that  do  not 
admit  of  a  retreat  269 

Of  the  effects  of  habit  in  giving 
strength  to  the  will  270 

Of  strengthening  the  will  by  reli- 
gious considerations  271 

NOTE   (section  OMITTED.) 

The  fact  of  laws  of  the  will  shown 
from  the  regularity  of  voluntary 
contributions  and  of  depositesl052 


PART   FIRST 


GENERAL  NATURE  OF  THE  WILL. 


PT£R  FIRST. 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MENTAL  fOWERS. 


§.   1 .   Of  the  method  of  inquiry  proper  to  he  pursued. 

In  entering  upoif  a  discussion  of  the  various  questions, 
connected  with  the  Will,  it  is  perhaps  proper  to  remark  upon 
the  course,  which  we  deem  it  expedient  to  pursue.  It  will 
be  our  desire  to  rest  mainly  upon  facts,  and  the  obvious  de- 
ductions from  them  ;  and  to  avoid,  as  much  as  possible,  mere 
speculation.  The  indulgence  of  speculation  is  often  flatter- 
ing to  pride  of  intellect,  and  is  perhaps  indicative  of  the  con- 
sciousness of  mental  power ;  but  it  is  not  on  all  subjects, 
unless  controlled  and  mitigated  by  a  frequent  recurrence  to 
facts,  favorable  to  the  ascertainment  of  truth.  The  inquiries 
before  us,  so  far  at  least  as  the  mode  of  conducting 
them  is  concerned,  ought  to  be  prosecuted  in  essen- 
tially the  same  manner  as  our  inquiries  into  the  physical 
world.  What  we  wish  to  know  are  the  simple  facts  that 
exist,  and  the  general  laws  which  they  obviously  develope 
and  prove,  in  distinction  from  mere  conjectures,  however 
ingenious  they  may  be.  We  apprehend,  that  this  course,  if 
we  promise  ourselves  a  favorable  issue,  is  necessary  in  all 


18  CLASSIFICATION    OF 

discussions  in  respect  to  the  mind,  to  whatever  powers  tjiey 
may  relate. 

Especially  is  this  true  in  respect  to  the  Will,  not  only  on 
account  of  the  peculiar  nature  of  its  operations,  but  also  for 
another  obvious  reason.  There  must  be  evidently  some 
point  in  the  mental  constitution,  which  connects  man  with 
his  Maker.  Although  ipen  have  liberty  and  power  in  their 
appropriate  sphere  of  action,  they  are  not  in  the  strict  sense 
of  the  term  independent.  All  created  beings,  however  great 
their  powers  may  be,  form  but  so  many  links  in  the  immense 
chain  of  existence,  that  extends  from  the  throne  of  God  down 
to  the  humble  forms  of  life,that  approach  nearest  to  inanimate 
matter.  All,  therefore,  must,  in  some  way,  be  connected  with 
that  great  Source  of  existence,without  whose  emanations  there 
could  be  existence  no  where.  And  accordingly  it  is  in  the 
voluntary  part  of  our  mental  constitutiAi  that  we  find  the 
point  of  union,  the  position  of  contact  with  the  Divine  Mind  ; 
for  the  divine  mind  runs  through  and  connects  itself  with'  the 
whole  range  of  existences,  making  them  all  one  in  subordi- 
nation. Accordingly  in  the  examination  of  the  Will  we 
must  expect  to  meet  with  the  apparently  inconsistent  attri- 
butes of  freedom,  dependence,  and  power,  existing  and  uni- 
ting harmoniously  in  the  same  being.  It  is  here  of  course, 
that  we  meet  with  much  to  perplex  our  judgment,  to  try  our 
faith,  and  to  solicit  speculation.  How  necessary,  then,  to 
be  on  our  guard,  to  proceed  with  caution,  to  test  our  powers 
of  investigation  exclusively  within  the  legitimate  limits  of 
their  action,  and  to  be  governed  by  those  sentiments  of 
modesty,  which  are  suitable  to  fallible  beings  ! 

We  are  aware,  that  this  proposed  course  is  not  altogether 
in  accordance  with  what  is  termed  the  spirit  of  the  age, 
which  seems  to  call  constantly  for  exaggeration  ;  for  what 
is  novel,  strange,  and  unprecedented  ;    for  something  that 


THE    MENTAL    POWERS.  I9 

will  arouse  and  astonish,  rather  than  convince .  But  this 
diseased  and  inordinate  appetite  for  novelty  and  excitement 
ought  to  be  rebuked  rather  than  encouraged  ;  and  least  of 
all  should  it  be  permitted  to  find  nourishment  and  support  in 
the  calm  regions  of  philosophy.  Let  us  then  proceed  to  this 
interesting  inquiry  with  those  chastened  feelings  of  modera- 
tion and  caution  which  have  been  recommended,  and  relying 
chiefly  upon  facts  and  the  legitimate  inferences  which  they 
furnish,  and  indulging  as  littje  as  possible  in  speculation,  be 
content  with  what  we  may  be  able  to  establish  on  a  firm  foun- 
dation, without  complaining,  that  our  limited  and  imperfect 
powers  require  some  things  to  be  left  in  obscurity. 

§.  2.  The  will  should  he  examined  in  connection  with  other 
parts  of  the  mind. 

It  must  constantly  strike  the  observer,  who  carefully 
contemplates  the  facts,  which  the  universe  every  where  ex- 
hibits, that  no  object  which  exists  is  wholly  disconnected 
from  other  objects.  Accordingly'in  attempting  to  examine  the 
nature  of  the  Will,  and  in  considering  it  in  the  various  aspects 
in  which  it  presents  itself  to  our  notice,  it  is  obvious,  that  we 
must  not  regard  it  as  standing  alone,  and  apart  from  every 
thing  else.  It  not  only  participates  in  the  general  nature  of 
the  mind,  but  has  a  close  connection  and  sympathy  with  all 
its  various  modes  of  action.  The  general  nature  of  the  soul 
could  not  be  altered,  nor  greatly  affected  in  any  way,  with- 
out at  the  same  time  affecting  the  Will.  Nor  could  a  single 
susceptibility,  even  one  of  minor.importance,  be  either  struck 
out  from  the  list  of  its  powers,  or  be  greatly  changed,  with- 
out being  attended  with  the  same  result.  In  the  present 
discussion,  therefore,  we  are  naturally  and  urgently  led  to 
fake  a  concise  view  of  the  general  structure  of  the  mind,  for 
the  purpose  of  more  fully  comprehending  the  relation,  which 
the  will  sustains  to  the  other  parts. 


)  CLASSIFICATION    OF 

§.  3.   The  states  of  the  mind  may  be  regarded  in  a  threefold 


view. 


Although  we  properly  ascribe  to  the  human  soul  the  attri- 
bute of  oneness  or  indivisibility,  there  is  abundant  reason 
for  saying,  that  its  nature  can  never  be  fully  understood  by 
contemplating  it  solely  and  exclusively  under  one  aspect. 
There  are,  accordingly,  three  prominent  and  well-defined 
points  of  view,  in  which  the  mind  may  be  contemplated,  viz, 
the  Intellect,  the  Sensibilities,  and  the  Will ;  otherwise  ex- 
pressed by  the  phrases,  intellectual,  sentient,  and  volun- 
tary states  of  the  mind.  Whatever  truly  and  appropriately 
belongs  to  the  intellect,  has  something  peculiar  and  charac- 
teristic of  it,  which  shuts  it  out  from  thd  domain  of  the  sen- 
sibilities ;  and  whatever  has  the  nature  of  a  volition  has  a 
position  apart  both  from  the  intellectual  and  the  sentient. 
This  is  a  fundamental  arrangement,  which,  when  properly 
and  fully  carried  out  and  applied,  includes  the  whole  soul. 
To  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  general  heads,  every  thing, 
involved  in  our  mental  existence,  may  be  referred.  In  fully 
exhausting,  therefore,  these  topics,  we  may  justly  count  up- 
on having  completed  the  exploration  of  the  mental  constitu- 
tion. When  we  have  dorife  this,  nothing  more  remains  to  be 
said.  The  work  is  finished.  The  depths  of  the  mind  have 
been  entered  ;  the  heights  have  been  ascended  ;  the  boun- 
daries have  been  set  up. 

§.  4.  Evidence  oj  the  general  arrangement  from  consciousness. 

The  general  arrangement,  which  has  been  spoken  of,  viz, 
into  the  intellectual,  sentient,  and  voluntary  states  of  the 
mind,  appears  to  be  susceptible  of  abundant  illustration  and 
proof.  It  is  not  our  intention,  however,  to  enter  into  the 
discussion  of  its  correctness  at  much  length  ;    but  merely  to 


THE    MENTAL    POWERS.  21 

indicate,  as  briefly  as  possible,  some  of  the  grounds,  on 
which  it  has  been  made  ;  premising  at  the  same  time,  that  the 
whole  of  this  treatise,  while  it  is  based  in  a  good  degree  on 
this  fundamental  division,  will  be  found  to  furnish  incidental 
evidence  throughout  of  its  truth. 

In  proof  of  the  propriety  of  the  general  arrangement  in 
question,  we  may  refer,  in  the  first  place,^  to  Consciousness. 
In  doing  this  we  are  of  course  obliged  to  prdsume,  that  the 
reader  understands  what  is  meant  by  the  term  consciousness  ; 
and  that  he  assents  to  the  truth,  so  readily  and  generally  ac- 
knowledged, that  we  have  much  of  our  knowledge  of  the 
mind  by  its  aid.  Mental  philosophers  assure  us,  that  we  are 
enabled,  by  means  of  consciousness,  to  ascertain  what 
thought  and  feeling  are  in  themselves,  and  to  distinguish 
them  from  each  other.  And  if  we  are  not  willing  to  depend 
upon  the  information  thus  given  us,  if  we  reject  its  authority 
in.  the  hopes  of  finding  something  more  certain,we  shall  only 
be  involved  in  greater  difficulty  ;  in  the  language  of  Con- 
dillac  on  this  very  subject,  "we  stray  from  a  point,  which 
we  apprehend  so  clearly,  that  it  can  never  lead  us  into  er- 
rour."^  But  if  it  be  true,  that  the  existence  and  distinctive 
character  of  the  mental  acts  is  made  known,  in  a  good  degree 
at  least,  by  consciousness,  and  that  we  may  justly  and  confi- 
dently rely  on  its  testimony,  we  naturally  inquire,  what  does 
it  teach  in  the  present  case  ?  And  in  answering  this  question, 
we  may  safely  appeal  to  any  person's  recollections,  and  ask, 
whether  he  has  ever  been  in  danger  of  confounding  a  mere 
perception,  a  mere  thought,  either  with  desires  and  emotions 
on  the  one  hand,  or  with  volitions  on  the  other  ?  Does  not 
his  consciousness  assure  him,  that  the  mental  states,  which 
we  thus  distinguish  by  these  different  terms,  are  not  identi- 
cal, that  the  one  class  is  not  the  other,  that  they  as  actually 

*  Origin  of  I^owledge,  Pt.  I,  ch.  1. 


22  CLASSIFICATION    OF 

differ  from  each  other,  as  association  does  from  belief,  or  im- 
agination from  memory  ? — It  may  be  objected,  however,  that 
we  find  ourselves  perplexed  and  at  a  loss  to  explain,  by  any 
statement  in  words,  the  precise  difference  in  this  case, 
whatever  that  difference  may  actually  be.  We  readily  admit 
the  fact,  implied  in  this  objection,  but  without  admitting 
that  it  has  any  weight  as  proof  against  the  distinction  in 
question.  No  simple  notion  or  feeling  whatever  is  suscep- 
tible of  a  definition,  of  an  explanation  by  mere  words  alone. 
And  it  cannot  be  expected  of  any  thing,  whose  own  nature 
we  cannot  explain  by  words,  that  we  can  fully  explain,  by 
a  mere  verbal  statement,  its  difference  from   other  things. 

It  would  seem,  therefore,  that  we  may  rest  in  this  inquiry 
upon  men's  consciousness  ;  not  of  one  merely,  but  of  any 
an^  all  men.  The  understanding  stands  apart  from  the  rest. 
Tlie  will  also  has  its  separate  and  appropriate  position.  We 
may  at  least  assert  with  full  confidence,  that  no  one  is  in 
danger  of  confounding  volitions  with  intellections  ;  that  is 
to  say,  with  the  mere  notions  of  the  understanding.  On  this 
point  there  is  certainly  a  general  agreement.  And  yet  Our 
consciousness,  if  we  will  but  attend  to  its  intimations  with 
proper  care,  will  probably  teach  us,  that  the  nature  of  a  voli- 
tion more  nearly  approaches  that  of  a  purely  intellectual  act, 
than  it  does  the  distinctive  nature  of  emotions  and  desires.  It 
is  undoubtedly  true,  that  volitions  may  have  aroused  and 
excited  antecedents,  and  may  thus  be  very  closely  con- 
nected with  the  various  affections  ;  but  in  themselves  they 
are  cold  and  unimpassioned  ;  they  are  purely  executive  or 
mandatory,  and  are  as  obviously  free  from  any  actual  im- 
pregnation of  appetite,  sentiment,  or  desire,  as  the  most  ab- 
stract and  callous  exercises  of  the  intellect. 


THE    MENTAL  POWERS.  23 

§.  5.  Evidence  of  the  same  from  terms  found  in  different 
languages. 

We  are  enabled  further  to  throw  some  light  on  this  sub- 
ject from  a  consideration  of  the  terms,  which  are  found  in  va- 
rious languages.  Every  language  is,  in  some  important 
sense,  a  mirror  of  the  mind.  Something  may  be  learnt  of 
the  tendency  ot  the  mental  operations,  not  only  from  the 
form  or  structure  of  language  in  general,  but  even  from  the 
import  of  particular  terms.  There  can  be  no  hesitation  in 
saying,  that  every  language  has  its  distinct  terms,  expressive 
of  the  threefold  view  of  the  mind  under  consideration,  and 
which  are  constantly  used  with  a  distinct  and  appropriate 
meaning,  and  without  being  interchanged  with  each  other 
as  if  they  were  synonymous.  In  other  words,  there  are 
terms  in  all  languages,  (meaning  those  of  course  which  are 
spoken  by  nations  somewhat  advanced  in  mental  culture,) 
which  correspond  to  the  English  terms,  intellect,  sensi- 
bilities, WILL.  If  such  terms  are  generally  found  in  lan- 
guages, differing  from  each  other  in  form  and  in  meaning,  it 
is  certainly  a  strong  circumstance  in  proof;  that  the  distinc- 
tion, which  we  propose  to  establish,  actually  exists.  On  the 
supposition  of  its  having  no  existence,  it  seems  impossible  to 
explain  the  fact,  that  men  should  so  universally  agree  in 
making  it.  If  on  the  other  hand  it  does  exist,  it  is  reasona- 
ble to  suppose,  that  it  exists  for  some  purpose  ;  and  existing 
for  some  purpose,  it  must  of  course  becomeknown  ;  and  be- 
ing known,  it  is, naturally  expressed  in  language,  the  same 
as  any  other  object  of  knowledge.  And  this  is  what  we  find 
t6  be  the  case.  So  that  we  may  consider  the  expression  to 
be  an  evidence  of  the  fact  ^  the  sign,  an  intimation  and  evi- 
dence of  the  reality  of  the  thing  signified. 


24  CLASSIFICATION    OF 

§.6.  Evidence  from  incidental  remarks  in  writers. 

We  now  pass  to  other  sources  of  evidence  on  this  subject. 
No  small  amount  of  knowledge,  bearing  upon  the  capabilities 
and  the  character  of  the  human  mind,  may  be  gathered  from 
the  incidental  remarks  of  writers  of  careful  observation  and 
good  sense.  And  accordingly  if  we  find  remarks  expressive  of 
mental  distinctions,  repeatedly  made  by  such  men,  when 
they  are  not  formally  and  professedly  treating  of  the  mind, 
it  furnishes  a  strong  presumption,  that  such  distinctions  ac- 
tually exist.  Their  testimony  is  given  under  circumstan- 
ces the  most  favorable  to  an  unbiassed  opinion  ;  and  ought 
to  be  received  into  the  vast  amount  of  evidence,  drawn  from 
a  great  variety  of  sources,  which  goes  to  illustrate  the  true 
nature  of  the  soul.  The  popular  author  of  Literary  Hours 
has  given  in  one  of  his  Works  an  interesting  biographical 
sketch  of  Sir  Richard  Steele.  After  remarking  upon  the  in- 
consistencies of  his  life,  his  excellent  resolutions  and  his 
feeble  performances,  his  successive  seasons  of  riot  and  of 
repentance,  he  refers  the  cause  of  these  inconsistencies  to  the 
feebleness  of  the  will ;  and  in  doing  it,  he  incidentally,  but 
very  clearly,  makes  the  distinction  under  consideration. 
"His  misfortune,  the  cause  of  alibis  errors,  was,  not  to  have 
clearly  seen,  where  his  deficiencies  lay  ;  they  were  neither 
of  the  head,  nor  of  the  heart,  but  of  the  volition.  He  pos- 
sessed the  wish,  but  not  the  power  of  volition  to  carry  his 
purposes  into  execution."*  As  we  are  not  at  liberty  to  sup- 
pose, that  so  respectable  a  writer  employ§  words  with6ut 
meaning,  he  must  be  regarded  as  intending  to  make  the 
distinction,  which  has  been  asserted  to  exist. 

The  reference,  just  made  to  the  personal  history  of  the 
distinguished  English  Essayist,  leads  us  to  remark  inciden- 

*  Drake's  Essays  illustrative  of  the  Tatler,  Spectator,  and  Guardian, 
Vol.  1.  p.  50. 


4     • 


THE    MENTAL  POWERS.  25 

tally  upon  biographical  narratives  in  general.  Biographers 
are  supposed  to  study  carefully  the  lives  of  those  persons,  of 
whose  characters  they  give  an  account  ;  and  if  this  supposi- 
tion be  as  correct  as  it  is  reasonable,  they  may  justly  be 
ranked  among  the  valuable  contributors  to  a  true  knowledge 
of  mental  history.  A  knowledge  of  a  man's  life  and  charac- 
ter of  course  implies  a  knowledge  of  his  mind.  And  the 
character  of  any  one  man,  whoever  he  may  be  and  in  what- 
ever situation  he  may  be  placed,  of  course  throws  light  on 
the  human  mind  in  general.  In  Dr.  Currie's  well  written 
Life  of  Burns,  it  is  asserted,  that  the  force  of  that  remarka- 
ble poet  lay  in  the  powers  of  his  understanding  and  the  sen- 
sibilities of  his  heart.  And  the  writer  not  only  thus  clearly 
indicates  the  distinction  between  the  understanding  or  in- 
tellect and  the  heart  ;  but  in  another  passage,  which  un- 
doubtedly discloses  the  key  to  the  poet's  character  and  con- 
duct, he  distinguishes  both  of  them  from  the  voluntary  pow- 
ers. The  passage  referred  to  is  this.  ''He  knew  his  own 
failings  ;  he  predicted  their  consequences  ;  the  melancholy 
foreboding  was  not  long  absent  from  his  mind  ;  yet  his  pas- 
sions carried  him  down  the  stream  of  error,  and  swept  him 
over  the  precipice  he  saw  directly  in  his  course.  The  fatal 
defect  in  his  character  lay  in  the  comparative  weakness  of  his 
volitiorij  which,  governing  the  conduct  according  to  the  dic- 
tates of  the  understandings  alone  entitles  it  to  be  denomina- 
ted rational."* 

In  looking  into  an  Essay  on  Decision  of  Character,!  (an 
interesting  subject  and  treated  with  a  vigor  of  thought  and 
expression  suited  to  its  nature,)  we  find  the  following  pas- 
sage, confused  somewhat  by  the  indulgence  of  figurative 
terms,  but  yet  explicit  enough  for  our  present  purpose. — "A 
strenuous  ivill   must  accompany  the  conclusions  of  thought, 

*  Currie's  Life  of  Burns,  Philadelphia  Ed.  p.  62. 
i  Foster's  Essays,  II,  Letter  3d. 
4 


^- 


26  CLASSIFICATION  OF 

and  constantly  urge  the  utmost  efforts  for  their  practical  ac- 
complishment. The  intellect  must  be  invested,  if  I  may  so  des- 
cribe it,  with  a  glowing  atmosphere  of  passion,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  which  the  cold  dictates  of  reason  take  fire,  and  spring 
into  active  powers  .^^ 

A  recently  published  Inquiry  concerning  the  Indications 
of  Insanity,  in  which  are  various  sketches  of  personal  history 
and  character  that  illustrate  certain  traits  of  the  mind,  has  the 
following  statement — "  Delinquents  of  this  description  are, 
perhaps,  not  unable  to  distinguish  between  what  is  right  and 
what  is  wrong  ;  but  their  will  is  not  governed  by  their  im- 
derstanding,  and  they  want  the  power  of  restraining  them- 
selves from  that  which,  when  committed,  they  are  afraid  to 
reflect  upon.  Their  will  rem-dins  ]  but  it  springs  from  de- 
praved sensations  and  emotions^  or  from  passions  inordinate  and 
unrestrained,  and  is  not  under  the  direction  of  sound  mental 
f acuities. ^^"f 

A  celebrated  writer,  in  giving  directions  to  his  son  as  to 
the  manner  of  conducting  negociations  with  foreign  ministers, 
makes  use  of  the  following  language. — "If  you  engage  his 
heart,  you  have  a  fair  chance  for  imposing  upon  his  understand- 
ing, and  determining  his  w'i//."*  This  writer,  as  well  as  many 
others,  employs  the  more  common  term  heart  to  express  the 
sensibilities  ;  and  he  evidently  uses  language,  as  if  there 
were  a  known  and  admitted  distinction  between  the  intellec- 
tual, sentient,  and  voluntary  parts  of  our  nature,  since  he 
speaks  of  the  control  or  regulation  of  the  understanding,  as 
being,  in  the  case  under  consideration,  subsequent  to  the  pos- 
session of  the  heart,  and  the  determination  of  the  will  as 
subsequent  to  both,  or  at  least  as  not  identical  with  them. 

t  ConoUy's  Inquiries  concerning  the  Indications  of  Insanity,  &c.  Lond. 
Ed.  p.  454. *  Chesterfield,  Lond.  Ed.  Vol.  Ill,  p,  137. 


THE  MENTAL    POWERS. 


27 


§.  7.  Consciousness  alone  not  sufficient  to  give  a  full  knowU 
edge  of  the  mind. 

Perhaps  it  is  necessary  to  say  something  further  in  jus- 
tification of  this  mode  of  reference.  Certain  it  is,  that 
a  reliance  on  our  own  consciousness,  our  own  internal 
reflections  alone  is  not  enough.  It  is  true,  that  all  men 
have  within  themselves  the  elements  of  human  nature,  but 
they  are  not  developed  in  all  alike.  And  although  our 
consciousness  deserves  preeminently  to  be  consulted,  and 
is  always  correct  as  far  as  it  goes,  the  man,  who  studies 
consciousness  alone,  in  other  words  who  relies  exclusively 
on  his  own  mental  history,  will  necessarily  have  but  an  im- 
perfect knowledge  of  what  really  pertains  to  the  mental  con- 
stitution. There  have  not  been  wanting  eminent  philoso- 
phers, (Malebranche  may  be  adduced  as  an  instance,)  who 
have  pursued  this  course,  but  did  not  succeed.  Locke  on 
the  contrary  studied  mankind  in  general,  as  well  as  himself ; 
he  summoned  observation  to  the  aid  of  consciousness,  and 
with  far  more  satisfactory  results. 

Now  if  we  look  carefully  at  such  writers  as  were  refer- 
red to  in  the  preceding  section,  what  do  we  find  to  be  the 
fact  ?  They  give  us  an  account  of  the  insane  man,  of  the 
literary  man,  the  poet,  the  man  of  great  decision  of  charac- 
ter, the  politician,  &c  ;  but  in  doing  it,  they  are  obliged  to 
make  the  distinction  in  question  ;  they  are  compelled  to  re- 
cognize the  separation  of  the  understanding  from  the  heart, 
and  of  both  from  the  will ;  and  they  could  not  complete  their 
portraits  without  it.  If  they  were  not  permitted  to  take  this 
course,  their  sketches  would  but  feebly  resemble  the  orig- 
inal ;  they  would  be  like  those  fragments  of  statuary,  which 
have  come  down  to  us  from  ancient  times,  beautiful  though 
absurdly  mutilated,  the  head  without  the  trunk,  and  limbs 
sundered  from  the  body  ;  a  subject  of  study  and  admiration 


28  CLASSIFICATION    OF 

in  themselves,  but  suggesting  a  very  imperfect  conception 
of  that  whole,  to  whose  symmetry  and  perfection  they  had 
once  contributed.  But  these  writers  do  not  find  human  na- 
ture thus  mutilated,  and  they  describe  it  as  they  find  it. 
They  do  not  describe  it  thus,  because  they  are  ambitious  of 
novelty  or  of  being  reckoned  among  mental  philosophers  ; 
but  because  they  cannot  do  otherwise,  if  they  would  faith- 
fully record  what  constantly  presses  itself  on  their  notice. 
And  hence  it  is,  that  their  testimony  on  any  question  of  this 
nature  is  of  so  much  importance. 

§,  8.  Further  proof  from  various  writers  on  the  mind . 

The  distinction  in  question  has  been  fully  recognized  by 
various  distinguished  writers  on  the  mind.      The  following 
passage  is  to  be  found  in  Mr.  Locke.     "Thus  by  a  due  con- 
w^*  sideration,  and  examining  any  good  proposed,  it  is  in  our  pow- 

"^'  er  to  raise  our  desires  in  a  due  proportion  to  the  value  of  that 

good,  whereby  in  its  turn  and  place  it  may  come  to  work 
upon  the  ivill,  and  be  pursued.  For  good,  though  appearing, 
and  allowed  ever  so  great,  yet  till  it  has  raised  desires  in  our 
minds,  and  thereby  made  us  uneasy  in  its  want,  it  reaches 
not  our  m//s."*  Here  the  threefold  division  in  question  is 
distinctly  recognized.  The  due  consideration  and  examin- 
ing, which  are  spoken  of,  imply  an  act  of  the  intellect ;  the 
desires,  which  are  subsequently  raised,  are  appropriately  as- 
cribed to  the  sensibilities  ;  and  these  last  are  followed  by 
an  act  of  the  other  part  of  our  nature,  viz,  the  will. 

Mr.  Hume,  in  his  Dissertation  on  the  Passions,  has  the 
following  passage,  which  is  clear  enough  in  its  import  with- 
out comment. — *^  It  seems  evident  that  reason,  in  a  strict 
sense,  as  meaning  the  judgment  of  truth  and  falsehood,  can 
never  of  itself  be  any  motive  to  the  will,  and  can  have  no  in- 
*  Essay  on  the  Understanding.  Bk,  II.  ch.  xxi.  §.  46. 


THE    MENTAL    POWERS.  29 

fluence  but  so  far  as  it  touches  some  passion  or  affection.'*^ 
In  the  Essays  on  the  Principles  of  Morality  and  Natural 
Religion,  ascribed  to  Lord  Kames,  is  a  passage  as  follows. 
"  He  hath  appetites  and  passions,  which  prompt  him  to  their 
respective  gratifications  ;  but  he  is  under  no  necessity  of 
blindly  submitting  to  their  impulse.  For  reason  hath  a  pow- 
er of  restraint.  It  suggests  motives  from  the  cool  views  of 
good  and  evil.  He  deliberates  upon  these.  In  consequence 
of  his  deliberation  he  chooseth  ;  and  here,  if  any  where,  lies 
our  liberty." 

Among  writers  more  recent,  who  have  insisted  on  this 
distinction  with  much  earnestness  and  clearness,  we  may 
mention  Sir  James  Mackintosh.  In  some  strictures  on  Dr. 
Price's  Review  of  the  Principal  Questions  in  Morals,  he  has 
occasion  to  make  a  remark,  the  substance  of  which  had  been 
given  before  and  is  repeated  afterwards, 'Hhat  no  perception 
or  judgment,  or  other  unmixed  act  of  the  understanding,  mere- 
ly as  such  and  without  the  agency  of  some  intermediate  emo- 
tiony  can  affect  the  wilW''^ 

A  writer  of  our  own  country,  who,  in  the  retirement  of 
a  country  parish  and  in  the  faithful  discharge  of  its  multiplied 
duties,  has  found  time  to  furnish  his  contributions  to  a  knowl- 
edge of  our  mental  structure,  expresses  himself  thus. — 
"Why  do  not  philosophers  consider  all  the  operations  of  the 
understanding,  and  the  affections, as  constituting  but  one  gen- 
eral class  of  operations,  and  as  belonging  to  one  faculty  ? 
The  reason  is,  they  see  no  similarity  between  intellectual 
perceptions  and  affections.  A  perception  is  not  a  feeling 
either  of  pleasure  or  pain,  nor  a  desire.  And  pleasure  and 
pain  and  desires,  they  clearly  see,are  not  perceptions.  Hence 
classing  them  together  would  be  improper,  and  create  con- 
fusion. It  would  be  confounding  things  which  differ,  and 
♦General  View  of  the  Progress  of  Ethical  Philosophy,  p.  157. 


30  CLASSIFICATION    OF 

destroying  all  those  distinctions,  which  are  necessary  to  the 
acquirement  of  scientific  knowledge.  J^or  a  person  has  no 
more  than  a  confused  notion  of  things,  who  does  not  make 
distinctions,  where  there  are  differences  ;  or  point  out  the 
difference  between  one  thing  and  another.  As  perceptions 
and  affections  generically  differ,  philosophers  have  distin- 
guished them,  and  formed  them  into  distinct  classes  ;  and 
so  they  have  admitted  the  existence  of  two  facul- 
ties. And  for  the  same  reason  they  admit  two,  they 
ought  to  grant  there  are  three  faculties.  For  when 
we  attend  to  the  affections  and  to  volitions,  it  is  evident 
there  is  a  generic  difference  between  them.  It  is  evident 
that  pain,  pleasure,  and  desires,  are  not  volitions;  and  have 
no  similarity  to  those  voluntary  exertions,  which  produce 
effects  on  the  body,  and  in  other  things  around  us.  For 
these  affections  do  not  immediately  produce  any  external 
effects;  they  are  effects  themselves  produced  by  the  heart, 
and  are  either  virtuous  or  vicious.  For  it  has  been  shown, 
that  vice  and  virtue  belong  to  the  heart  only,  and  its  opera- 
tions, or  affections.  There  is,  therefore,  no  more  proprie- 
ty in  classing  the  affections  and  volitions  together,  than  in 
making  but  one  class  of  the  affections  and  perceptions. 
The  affections  and  volitions  so  widely  differ,  that  they  nat- 
urally divide  themselves  into  two  distinct,  general  classes."* 
It  would  be  easy  to  multiply  passages  of  the  same  im- 
port from  numerous  other  inquirers  into  the  mind,  if  it  were 
thought  necessary.  The  view  thus  taken  by  English  and 
American  writers  is  sustained  by  judicious  metaphysi- 
cians of  other  countries,  of  which  our  limits  will  permit 
us  to  give  only  a  single  passage  as  an  instance.  The  wri- 
ter, after  some  remarks  on  the  origin  of  the  desires,  hopes, 
and  fears,  proceeds  as  follows. — "  Ces  affections  internes 
sont  ce  que  nous  nommons  sentimens.  lis  different  des  sensa- 
tions, en  ce  que  les  sensations  ont  leur  source  directement 
*Burton's  Essays  on  Metaphysics,  Ethics,  and  Theology,  p.  92. 


J^ 


THE    MENTAL    POWERS.  31 

dans  I'exterieur,  tandis  que  les  sentimens  sont  produits  en 
nous  seulement  k  Poccasion   de   I'exterieur,  soit   qu'il  nous 

affecte  actuellement,  soit  qu'il  nous  ait  precedemment  affec- 
tes.  lis  resemblent  aux  sensations,  en  ce  que,  comme  elles, 
Us  sont  independans  de  noire  volonic,  et  non  susceptibles 
d'etre  produits  ou  empeches  par  nous.  Qui  pent,  en  effet, 
desireVj  espereVy  craindre  a  volonte  ?"* 

§.  9.   Of  the  consideration  due  to  the  opinions  of  able  and 
professed  inquirers  into  the  mind. 

In  connection  with  the  references,  which  have  been  made 
in  the  foregoing  section  and  the  extracts  given,  there  re- 
mains a  remark  or  two  to  be  offered.  It  may  be  objected, 
that,  in  inquiries  of  this  nature,  we  must  not  rest  solely  nor 
chiefly  on  mere  authority  ;  and  that,  in  respect  to  the  pow- 
ers and  the  action  of  the  mind,  the  testimony  of  one  man  is  as 
good  as  that  of  another.  The  feeling  of  independence,  im- 
plied in  this  objection,  is  so  common  and  so  much  approved 
at  the  present  day,  and  is  often  so  misjudged  in  its  applica- 
tion, that  it  deserves  some  notice.  That  the  candid  and  con- 
siderate testimony  of  all  men,  in  any  matter  where  the  ele- 
ments of  human  nature  are  concerned,  is  important,  is  very 
true.  But  that  their  testimony  is,  in  all  cases,  of  precisely 
equal  value,  is  an  assertion  evidently  hasty  and  unfounded. 
It  may  be  the  case,  that  the  testimony  of  all  men  is  equally 
good  in  respect  to  the  more  obvious  facts  ;  but  when  we 
come  to  those,  which  are  less  so,  and  when  we  attempt  to 
classify  them  and  to  trace  the  various  relations  existing 
among  them,  the  testimony  is  the  more  valuable  in  propor- 
tion as  it  comes  from  men  of  greater  ability  and  more  tho- 
rough study  of  the  mental  operations.  Do  we  not  find  such 
to  be  the  case  in  the  common  transactions  of  life,  and  even 
in  the  matters  of  the  least  difficulty  ?  We  prefer  the  opinion 
*  De  La  Liberie  et  de  ses  DifFerens  Modes,  par  Augustin-Frangois  Thery. 


22  CLASSIFICATION    OF 

of  a  skilful  farmer  on  the  qualities  and  value  of  a  piece  of 
land  to  that  of  any  other  man  ;  we  adopt,  in  preference  to  all 
others,  the  opinion  of  one,  who  has  long  navigated  the  ocean, 
on  the  construction  of  a  ship  the  most  adapted  to  the  purpo- 
ses of  sailing  and  conveying  merchandize  ;  and  so  of  every 
trade  and  art  and  calling  in  life.  And  if  it  be  thus  in  mat- 
ters comparatively  so  plain  and  obvious,  it  is  certainly  still 
more  necessary  in  questions  relating  to  our  mental  struc- 
ture. We  cannot,  therefore,  bring  ourselves  to  speak  light- 
ly of  the  authority  of  those  distinguished  men,  who  have 
devoted  themselves  to  mental  and  moral  inquiries  ;  nor, 
•while  we  admit  the  possibility  of  their  sometimes  commit- 
ting mistakes,  withhold  the  great  consideration,  which  is  ob- 
viously due  to  their  opinions.  Nor  can  we  permit  ourselves 
to  doubt,thatthe  decisions  of  such  philosophers  as  Mackintosh, 
Stewart,  Butler,  and  Locke,  in  particular,  will  continue  to 
be  very  generally  quoted  as  of  great  account  in  discussions 
of  this  nature,  at  least  till  others  of  intellect  as  elevated  and 
of  feelings  as  pure,  and  aided  by  the  precedents  they  have 
set,  shall  arise  and  occupy  the  place  in  the  public  estima- 
tion, which  they  now  fill. 

§.  10.  A  knowledge  of  the  will  implies  a  preliminary 
knowledge  of  the  intellect. 

Illustrations  and  proofs  might  be  carried  to  a  much  greater 
extent.  But  enough  probably  has  been  said  to  explain  pre- 
cisely the  views  which  we  entertain  on  this  subject,  to  inti- 
mate the  various  sources  of  proof,  and  to  shield  us  from  the 
imputation  of  asserting  what  cannot  be  maintained.  Sup- 
ported by  consciousness,  the  structure  of  languages,  the  in- 
cidental remarks  of  writers  on  a  multitude  of  occasions,  and 
by  the  deliberate  opinions  of  many  able  metaphysicians,  we 
are  justified  in  going  forward  in  our  inquiries,  with  the  dis- 
tinction in  question  as  its  basis.  And  now  we  have  further 
to  remark,  if  there  be  that  threefold  distinction   in  the  mind 


1    THE    MENTAL    POWERS.  33 

"which  has  been  contended  for,  then  each  of  these  prominent 
parts  may  be  treated  of  separately;  that  is  to  say,  the  Will 
may  be  made  a  subject  of  examination  in  distinction  from 
the  Understanding,  and  both  in  distinction  from  the  Affec- 
tions, or  more  properly  from  the  Sensibilities,  which  is 
the  more  general  and  appropriate  term.  But  in  the  order  of* 
inquirer  the  understanding  naturally  comes  first,  and  thehth6 
sensibilities,  and  the  will  last.  And  hence  we  are  led  to  ob- 
serve, that  a  thoroiigh  knowledge  of  the  will  necessarily  im- 
plies a  knowledge  of  the  understanding. 

We  are  compelled,  therefore,  to  presume,  that  the  reader 
is  already  acquainted  with  what  has  sometimes  been  termecf 
the  cognitive  part  of  our  nature  ;  that  he  knows  something  of 
the  nature  of  sensation  and  perception  ;  that  he  has  some 
acqnaintance  with  the  power  of  suggestion,  with  the  judg- 
ment or  relative  suggestion,  the  memory,  reasoning,  imagin- 
ation and  the  like,  which  are  properly  included  under  the 
general  head"*of  the  understanding  or  intellect.  We  indulge 
the  hope,  that  this  presumption  will  prove  well-founded^ 
Certain  it  is,  that  no  man  is  entitled  to  pronounce  with  con- 
fidence on  any  discussion  having  relation  to  the  will,  with- 
out possessing  the  elements  and  outlines,  at  letist,  of  such 
preliminary  knowledge. 

§.11.  Implies  a  preliminary  knowledge  also  oj  the  sensibilities. 

It  seems  proper  to  observe  further,  that  similar  remarks 
will  apply  to  the  sensibilities-  To  a  correct  knowledge  of  the 
W^ill,  a  knowledge  of  the  sentient  states  of  the  mind  cannot 
be  considered  less  necessary  than  of  the  intellectual.  And 
who,  that  has  given  but  even  a  slight  attention  to  mental 
inquiries,  can  be  supposed  ignorant  of  that  interesting  part 
of  our  nature  ?  It  is  there  we  find  the  emotions„which  invest 
the  various  forms  of  nature  with  beauty  and  grandeur.     It  is 


34  CLASSIFICATION    &c. 

there  we  arc  to  seek  for  a  knowledge  of  the  propensities  and 
passions,  which  bind  men  together  in  society  ;  the  sources 
at  once  of  their  activity,  their  joy,  and  their  sorrow.  And 
there  also  we  discover  the  elements  of  accountability,  the 
feelings  that  approve  and  disapprove,  the  signatures  of  the 
law  written  within,  which  no-Q|ie  either  obeys  or  violates 
without  the  appropriate  reward  or  condemnation.  •  With 
this  preparatory  knowledge,  we  are  ready  to  advance  with 
some  hope  of  a  successful  issue.  The  natural  course  of  in- 
quiry is  through  the  understanding,  and  the  heart  or  sensi- 
bilities, upwards  to  the  will.  The  latter  sustains  the  relation 
of  a  higher  and  more  authoritative  power  ;  a  point  of  view 
in  which  we  shall  more  fully  consider  it  in  some  following 
chapters.  Without  this,  all  the  rest  would  be  comparatively 
useless.  So  that  in  considering  the  position  it  maintain^we 
are  naturally  reminded  of  the  passage,  which  Home  Tooke 
has  made  so  celebrated  ; 

"  'Tis  the  last  key-stone, 


'That  makes  the  arch  ;  the  rest,  that  there  were  put, 
'  Are  nothing,  till  that  comes  to  bmd  and  shut. 


CHAPTER  SECOND. 


RELATION  05  THE  INTELLECT  TO  THE  WILL 


^.   12.  Jl  connection  existing >among  all  the  parts  and  powers 
,  0/  the  mind. 

In  the  preceding  Chapter  we  have  insisted  on  a  threefold 
view  of  the  mind  as  fundamental ;  and  we  may  add  here 
our  conviction,  that  the  recognition  of  this  distinction  is  not 
only  fundamental  in  respect  to  a  knowledge  of  the  mind  in 
general,  hut  is  particularly  necessary  to  a  full  understanding 
and  solution  of  the  suhject  in  hand.  Buf  to  assert  and  even 
to  prove  the  existence  of  this  distinction  is  not  enough.  It 
seems  proper  to  say  something  further  in  illustration  of  the 
precise  relation  of  these  prominent  departments  of  the  mind 
to  each  other,  heginmng  with  the  intellect.  And  as  prelim- 
inary to  this,  we  shall  occupy  a  few  moments  in  considering 
the  connection,  which  seems  to  exist  among  all  the  various 
powers  of  the  mind,  both  those  of  a  more  general  and  those 
of  a  subordinate  character. 

A  very  slight  observation,  it  is  believed,  will  suffice  to 
teach 'us  the  general  fact,  that  there  is  some  bond  of  union 


36       RELATION  OF  THE  INTELLECT 

some  principle  of  connection  pervading^  every  variety  of  the 
mental  action.  And  the  further  this  observation  is  carried 
on,  the  more  obvious  and  indispensable  will  this  connection 
appear.  If,  for  instance,  we  examine  those  subordinate 
powers,  which  are  properly  arranged  together  under  the 
general  head  of  the  Intellect,  we  shall  readily  find  this  to  be 
the  case.  There  is  no  perception  without  the  antecedenrt 
sensation  ;  there  is  no  memory  w^ithout  attention  ;  no  rea- 
soning without  both  mempry  and  association;  and  neither  rea- 
soning nor  imagination  without  the  power  of  perceiving  re- 
lations or  relative  suggestion.  But  in  all  these  cases  and  in 
others,  they  stand,  if  we  may  be  allowed  the  expression, 
side  by  side,  ready  to  lend  each  other  an  a'^sisting  hand,  ajid 
comparatively  powerless  and  fruitless  without  this  mutual 
aid.  And  if  such  be  the  state  of  things  in  the  instances, 
which  have  been  particularized,  then  analogy  would  lead  us 
to  suppose,  that  there  is  a  like  principle  of  union  running 
through  and  connecting  together  the  more  general  depart- 
ments of  the   mind  ;  and  this  too  is  abundantly  obvious  on 

jeven  a  slight  examination. 

i 

^.  13.    The  intellectual  part  the  foundation  or  ba^is  of  tha 
/       \,        others. 

Of  the  Understanding  in  particular,  it  may  be  said  with 
some  appearance  of  reason,  that  we  find  in  it  the  foundation, 
the  basis  of  the  existence  and  of  the  action  both  of  the  sen- 
tient and  of  the  voluntary  nature.  Let  us  examine  this  point, 
in  the  first  place,  in  reference  to  the  ||||pnsibilities.  When 
that  part  of  our  nature  is  in  action, we  find  ourselves,according 
to  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  pleased  or  displeased  ;  we 
are  filled  with  admiration  or  disgust ;  w^e  love  or  hate  ;  we 
approve  or  disapprove  ;  and  exercise  other  emotions,  de- 
sires, and  passions.  But  the  slightest  examination  will  teach 
us,  that  tliis  could  not  be  the  case,  that  these  states  of  mind 


TO    THE    WILL. 

could  not  exist,  without  the  acquisition  of  knowled  '^  "*■ 
of  xjourse  implies  the  exercise  of  the  intellect.  If  we  approve 
or  di^pprove  a  thing,  it  is  very  evident  that  we  must  have 
a  knowledge  of  some  object  of  approval  or  disapproval, 
that  there  must  be  something,  upon  which  these  emotions  can 
fasten.  And  again,  if  we  exercise  love  or  hatred,  the  intel- 
lect must  have  been  previously  employed  in  making  known 
the  existence  and  qualities  of  those  objects,  towards  which 
the  passions  of  love  and  hatred  are  directed. 

And  these  views  will  be  found  equally  applicable  to  the 
Will.  There  can  no  Inore  be  an  act  of  the  will  without 
some  object  of  knowledge  before  the  mind,  than  there  can 
be  remembrance  without  a  thing  remembered,  or  association 
without  an  object,  to  which  the  principle  of  association  at- 
taches itself.  Hence,  if  we  could  find  a  man,  in  whom  the 
intellect  is  entirely  destroyed  in  fact,  or  is  virtually  des- 
troyed by  being  entirely  dormant,  we  should  find  at  the 
same  time  an  extinction  both  of  the  passions  and  the  will. 
H?ippily  the  history  l)f  the  human  race  furnishes  but  a  soli- 
tary instance  of  that,  extseme  extinction  of  the  intellect 
which  we  now  have  in  view  ;  we  refer  to  the  case  of  the 
unfortunE^e  Caspar  Hauser.  As  the  intellect  cannot  be 
brought  into  action  and  made  to  develope  itself  except  by 
coming  into  contact  with  the  material  world,  the  result  of 
his  confinement  from  childhood  in  one  place,  and  of  his  entire 
seclusion  from  every  thing  external  to  his  horrid  prison  was 
the  utter  prostration  of  his  understanding  ;  scfircely  a  ray  of 
knowledge  penetrated  it  ;  the  feeble  perceptions  of  early 
infancy  were  combined  with  a  body,  that  had  nearly  expan- 
ded itself  to  the  fulness  of  manhood.  Such  imbecility  and 
vacuity  of  the.  intellect  of  course,  furnished  no  foundation 
for  the  developement  of  the  sensibilities.  If  we  may  rely 
upon  the  accounts,  that  are  given  of  him,  there  was*  in  gen- 
eral an  unruffled  and  placid.surface,  a  great  calm  of  the  mind. 


38         RELATION  OF  THE  INTELLECT 

And  as  there  was  no  excitement,  no  tossing  to  and  fro  of 
the  sensibilities,  but  every  thing  there  was  wrapped  up  in 
slumber  and  inactivity  ;  so  there  was  no  determination,  no 
resolve,  no  vigour-  ancj^ promptness  of  the  voluntary  power. 
The  slightest  impulse  from  the  minds  of  others  was  followed 
by  the  consentaneous  and  unresisting  inoveraent  of  his  own  ; 
and  his  Will,  so  far  from  indicating  any  elements  of  decision 
and  stability,  could  be  likened  only  to  the  flexible  reed  of 
the  desert,  which,  without  knowing  the  power  that  presses 
it,  is  shaken  and  bent  by  every  changing  breeze.  .  v 

§.  14  The  connection  of  the  understanding  with  the  will 
shown  from  its  connection  with  action. 

But  it  is  the.  object  of  this  chapter  to  consider  particular- 
ly the  connection  existing  between  the  understanding  and 
the  will,  and  the  relation  they  sustain  to  each  other.  And 
we  may  accordingly  remark  further,  that  the  connection  of 
the  intellectual  with  the,  voluntary  constitution  is  apparent 
from  the  connection  of  the  intellectual  part  or  understanding 

with  action. Whatever  difference  of   opinion  there  may 

be  in  other  respects,  there  is  a  general  agreement  in  this, 
that  the  mind,  both  in  its  internal  constitution  and  in  its 
adaptation  to  outward  objects,  is  evidently  framed  for 
movement.  It  was  never  meant  to  be  essentially  dormant, 
either  in  a  state  of  unconsciousness  or  of  mere  contemplation 
and  emotion  ;  but  was  rather,  when  we  consider  its  connec-> 
tion  with  other  states  and  modes  of  existence,  designed  to 
be  an  attendant  and  ministering  angel  to  the  great  Being 
who  made  it,  performing  his  errands  of  observation  and 
mercy,  in  whatever  sphere  of  activity  He  niight  see  fit  to 
designate. — And  it  seems  to  be  further  assented  to,  not  on- 
ly that  the  varions  parts  of  man's. nature  conspire  to  action, 
but  alsothat  the  ultimate  seat  .ajiid  source  of  action  is  in  the 


TO    THE*  WILL. 


Will  ;  in  other  words,  that  the  will  emphatically  sustains 
the  part  of  the  controllini^  and  executive!  power  of  the  mind. 
The  will  in  particular  leads  to  ouhvard  action.  It  must  be 
obvious  to  every  one  that  there  can  be  no  bodily  action,  ex- 
cepting what  is  termed  involuntary,  without  a  concurrent 
act  of  the  will  ;  and  it  is  equally  obvious  that  action,  in  its 
various  forms,  embraces  the  multiplied  duties,  and  is  the 
foundation  of  the  usefulness  of  man. 

■  Now  if  these  views  be  correct,  and  if  we  wholly  dissever 
the  understanding  from  action,  where  is  its  utility  ?  If  the 
highest  exertions  of  the  intelkct  can  lead  to  no  possible  re- 
sults, except  the  mere  accumulation  of  an  inoperative  and 
lifeless  mass  of  knowledge,  what  are  the  benefits  connected 
with  it  ?  If  we  are  assured  on  the -highest  authority,  that 
knowledge  without  charity  is  no  better  than  sounding  brass 
and  a  tinkling  cymbal,  it  is  certainly  of  no  more  worth  with- 
out practical  results,  without  correspondent  action.  But  if 
we  are  not  prepared  to  admit,  that  the  intellect,  which  is  so 
often  and  so  justly  pronounced  the  glory  of  man,  is  without 
worth,  it  seems  to  follow,  that  its  value  depends  upon  its  con- 
nection with  the  will.  Action,  as  Ave  have  seen,  is  undoubt- 
edly the  great  object,  that  was  had  in  view,  in  the  creation 
of  the  human  mind  ;  but  it  is  evident,  that  the  understanding 
can  have  no  connection  with  action,  except  in  the  direction 
and  with  the  concurrent  movement  of  the  voluntary  power. 
And  on  these  grounds,  among  others,  we  may  assert  the  rela- 
tionship and  the  alligation  oPthe  two. 

§  15.  Further  proof  from  an  observation  of  the  conduct  of  men. 

In  addition  to  the  considerations,  which  have  already 
been  brought  forward,  we  may  find  further  proofs  of  the 
connection,  which  is  alledged  to  exist,  in  our  manner  of  ad- 
dressing men,  when  we  wish  them  to  pursue  a  certain  course. 


40  RELATION   OF    THE    INTELLECT 

We  do  not  address  the  will  directly  and  alone  ;  nor  do  we 
directly  address  ourselves  to  the  emotions  and  passions  of 
men  ;  but  we  6ommonly  lay  the  basis  of  our.  efforts  in  a 
movement  on  the  understanding.  We  make  this  statement 
with  a  good  degree  of  confidence  ;  and  we  appeal  to  every 
one's  recollection,  whether  it  be  not  true.  A  person  wishes- 
another  to  join  with  him  in  some  enterprise,  and  perhaps  it 
is  one  of  an  exciting  nature.  But  where  does  he  begin  ? 
Does  he  immediately  lay  a  requisition  upon  the  will,  com- 
manding and  requiring  the  individual  to  enter  upon  the  pro- 
posed course  at  once  ?  Every  one  must  see,  that  this  would 
certainly  defeat  his  own  purpose.  If,  therefore,  he  would 
indulge  the  hope  of  succeeding,  he  must  act  upon  the  will  by 
taking  advantage  of  the  relations,  which  it  sustains  to  other 
parts  of  our  mental  nature.  Accordingly  he  commences  his 
attempts,  by  an  appeal  to  the  understanding,  endeavoring 
to  show  by  plain  and  incontrovertible  statements  the  practi- 
cability, propriety,  and  benefits  of  his  propositions;  and 
he  knows  perfectly  well,  that,  unless  he  succeeds  in  convinc- 
ing the  understanding,  he  has  no  prospect  of  rousing  tlje 
will  to  action,  and  that  the  probability  of  a  movement  on  the 
part  of  the  voluntary  power  will  be  in  proportion,  or  near- 
ly so,  to  the  favourable  position  of  the  intellect. 

On  the  death  of  Julius  Caesar,  Anthony  is  represented  by 
Shakespeare,  who  well  knew  what  process  was  requisite  in 
efifecting  such  an  object,  as  endeavouring  to  stir  up  a  ^'  sud- 
den flood  of  mutiny.''  But  he'  does  not  command  the  mul- 
titude,who  are  ready  for  almost  any  purpose  whether  good  or 
evil,  to  go  forth  at  once,  and  consummate  his  projects  of  fire 
and  slaughter.  He  addresses  neither  the  will,  nor  the  pas- 
sions, till  he  had  first  made  a  lodginent  in  the  understanding. 
After  saying,  in  excuse  of  his  coming  to  speak  at  Caesar's 
funeral,  that   Caesar  was  a  just  and  faithful  friend  to  him- 


TO    THE  WILL.  4I 

self,  he  goes  6n  to  state  what  are  the  plain  facts  in  the 
case,  ^l^t,  that  Caesar  had  brought  to  Rome  many  cap- 
'tives,  that  by  their  ransom  money  he  had  filled  the  pub- 
•lic  coffers,  that  he  had  wept  over  the  sufferings  of  the  poor, 
that  he  had  refused  a  kingly  crown  at  the  Lupercal,  &c. 
These  statements,  which  were  mere  facts  addressed  to  the 
understanding,  and  some  of  them  at  least  were  incon- 
trovertible, of  course  laid  the  foundation  for  a  change  in 
the  passions,  as  they  were  designed  to  do.  And  the  people", 
who  just  before  had  called  Caesar  a  tyrant^^and'were  glad 
that  Rome  was  rid  of  him,  now  began  to  admit,  that  there 
was  much  reason  in  Anthony's  sayings,  and  that  Caesar  had 
suffered* wrong.  He  then  told  tlijem  of  the  greatness  of 
Caesar,  of  the  power  which  he  had. once  exercised,  of  his 
ability  to  stand  against  not  one  nation  merely  but  the  whole 
world,though  now  so  low  that  none  would  do  him  reverence. 
And  by  such  addresses,  directed  in  the  first  instance  to  the 
understanding,  he  furnished  appropriate  fuel  to  the  passions, 
which  had  already  begun  to  quicken  into  life  ;  and  when 
he  further  proceeded  to  show  them  the  bloody  mantle,  and  to 
speak  of  the  testament  which  bequeathed  to  them  his  boun- 
tiful legacies,  the  passions  were  kindled  to  a  flame.  It  was 
then  that  the  object  of  the  speaker  was  accomplished,  as  he 
foresaw  it  would  be.  There  was  no  want  of  motives,  no 
hesitancy  of  the  will,  and  no  slowness  to  action.  The  mul- 
titude, driven  about  as  the  billows  are  agitated  by  the  wind, 
were  no  longer  the  friends  of  Brutus  ;  nor  were  they  indif- 
ferent and  idle  spectators.  But  rushing  from  street  to  street, 
and  seizing  such  weapon*  as  their  purposes  required,. they 
called  for  revenge,  slaughters,  and  burnings. 

<§.  16.   Of  the  nature  of  the  connection  between  the  understan- 
ding and  will. 

Presuming  enough  has  been  said,  at  least  for  the  present, 
6 


42  RELATIOi?^  OF   THE   INTELLECT     ; 

in  support  of  the  actual  existence  of  the  connection  we  arc 
inquiring  into,  we  are  now  prepared  to  say  something  of 
its  nature.  Although  the  connection  really  exists,  and  is  of' 
very  prominent  importance,  it  is  not  meant  to  be  said,  that  it  • 
is  a  direct  one.  In  other  words,  the  understanding,  whatever 
opinions  may  have  formerly  prevailed  on  the  subject, 
is,  in  no  case,  in  direct  contact  with  the  wiU.  When,  there- 
fore, we  speak  of  the  operation  of  the  intellect  upon  the 
will,  we  mean  an  indirect  or  circuitous  operation  ;  that  is 
to  say,  one  which  is  carried  on  through  the  mediation  of  the 
sensibilities,  under  which  term  we  include  the  various  forms 
of  emotion  and  desire,  together  with  feelings  of  obligation. 
The  appropriate  and  distinctive  object  of  the  underltanding 
is  knowledge.  But  we  confidently  venture  the  assertion,  that 
knowledge  alone  has  no  tendency  to  control  volition.  It  is 
possible  for  a  person  in  the  exercise  of  his  intellectual  pow- 
ers to  possess  unlimited  knowledge,  to  explore  and  exhaust 
every  field  of  inquiry,  and  yet  if  his  knowledge  be  unat- 
tended with  feeling,  if  it  be  followed  by  no  form  of  emotion 
or  desire  or  obligatory  sentiment,  it  will  leave  the  will  per- 
fectly indifferent  and  motionless.  Any  other  supposition  is 
at  variance  with  every  day's  experience.  A  certain  person, 
for  example,  comes  to  the  conclusion,  after  along  train  of 
reasoning,  that  the  possession  of  a  definite  amount  of  prop- 
erty would  be  beneficial  to  himself  and  family.  This  con- 
clusion is  of  course  the  result  of  a  purely  intellectual  process. 
But  if  it  be  utterly  passionless,  if  it  be  unattended  with  a 
single  emotion  or  desire,  it  will  altogether  fail  to  arouse  the 
will  to  activity  or  to  secure  a  single  effort.  In  the  constitution 
of  the  human  mind,  every  where  so  full  of  wisdom  and  of 
mystery,  the  Sensibilities,  which  are  as  different  from  the 
will  as  from  the  understanding,  are  located  between  the  two. 
They  form  the  connecting  link,  which  binds  them  together. 


TO    THE    WILL.  ^^^ 

Strike  out  the  sensibilities,  therefore,  and  you  necessarily 
excavate  a  gulph  of  separation  between  the  ijotellect  and  the 
willjwhich  is  forever  impassible.  There  is  from  that  moment 
no  medium  of  communication,  no  bond  of  union,  no  recipro- 
cal action. 

<§.   17.    Of  the  opinions  of  Mr.  Locke  on  this  point. 

Here  is  one  point,  on  which  writers  on  the  Will  have 
sometimes  fallen  into  errour,  viz,  in  placing  the  intellectual  in 
juxta-position  with  the  voluntary  power,  and  supposing  the 
latter  to  be  under  the  direct  operation  of  the  former.  Mr. 
Locke  himself  seems  to  have  been  of  this  opinion  at  first,  and 
to  have  published  to  the  world  his  belief,  that  the  understand- 
ingjforming  an  estimate  of  what  is  the  greatest  good,  was  the 
direct  means  of  controlling  the  will.  But  he  afterwards,  on 
more  mature  examination,  announced,  with  the  honesty,  and 
love  of  truth  for  which  he  is  so  celebrated,  his  decided 
change  of  opinion.— *'It  seems,  says  he,  so  established  and 
settled  a  maxim  by  the  general  consent  of  all  mankind,  that 
good,  the  greater  good,  determines  the  will,  that  I  do  not  at 
all  wonder,  that,  when  I  first  published  my  thoughts  on  this 
subject,  I  took  it  for  granted  ;  and  I  imagine  that  by  a  great 
many  I  shall  be  thought  more  excusable  for  having  done  so, 
than  that  nov^r  I  have  ventured  to  recede  from  so  received  an 
opinion.  But  yet  upon  a  stricter  inquiry,  I  am  forced  to  con- 
clude, that  good,  the  greater  good,ihough  apprehended  and  ac 
hnowledged  to  he  so,  doQS  not  determine  the  will,  until  our 
desire,  raised  proportionably  to  it,  makes  us  uneasy  in  the 
want  of  it.  Convince  a  man  ever  so  much,  that  plenty  has  its 
advantages  over  poverty  j  make  him  see  and  own,  that  the 
handsome  conveniences  of  life  are  better  than  nasty  penury  ; 
yet  as  long  as  he  is  content  with  the  latter  and  finds  no  un- 
easiness in  it,  he  moves  not ;  his  witl  is   never   determined  to 


44     Delation  of  the  intellect 

any  action^  that  shall  bring  him  out  of  it.  Let  a  man  he  ever 
so  well  persuaded  of  the  advantages  of  virtue,  that  it  is  as 
necessary  to  a  man  who  has  any  great  aims  in  this  world,  or 
hopes  in  the  next,  as  food  to  life  ;  yet,  till  he  hungers  and 
thirsts  after  righteousness,  till  he  feels  an  uneasiness  in  the 
want  of  it,  his  will  will  not  be  determined  to  any  action  in 
pursuit  of  this  greater  good." — "For  good,he  says  in  another 
passage,  though  appearing  and  allowed  ever  so  great,  yet  till 
it  has  raised  desires  in  our  minds,  and  thereby  made  us  unea- 
sy in  its  want,  reaches  notour  wills.''''* 

He  was  satisfied  on  repeated  examination  and  on  the 
most  mature  reflection,  which  he  could  give  to  the  subject, 
that  the  mere  intellectual  conviction  of  what  might  tend  to 
the  greatest  good,  has  no  efl?ect  upon  the  will,  till  it  has  first 
excited  within  us  desires  after  that  good. 

§.   l8.    Opinions  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh  on  the  same  subject. 

The  same  view  is  taken  by  other  profound  metaphysicians, 
so  that,  independently  of  its  own  obvious  reasonableness, 
there  is  no  want  of  authority  in  its  favour.  The  following 
expressions  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh  show  what  were  his 
Own  convictions  on  the  subject.— "Through  whatever  length 
o{  Teusoning' the  mind  may  pass  in  its  advances  towards 
action,  there  is  placed  at  the  end  of  any  avenue,  through 
which  it  can  advance,  some  principle  wholly  unlike  mere 
reason,  some  tmotion  or  sentiment  which  must  be  touched, 
before  the  springs  of  will  and  action  can  be  set  in  motion." 

And  in  another  passage,  a  part  of  which  follows,  he  main- 
tains the  assertion  here  made  at  considerable  length. — "We 
can  easily  imagine  a  percipient  and  thinking  being  without 
a  capacity  of  receiving  pleasure  or  pain.  Such  a  being 
might  perceive  what  we  do  ;  if  we  could  conceive  him  to 
♦Essay  concerning  the  Human  Understanding,  Bk.  IL  Ch.  xxi.  §§.  35,  46, 


TO    THJE    WILL.  45 

reason,  he  might  reason  justly  ;  and  if  he  were  to  judge 
at  all,  there  seems  no  reason  why  he  should  not  judge 
truly.  But  what  could  induce  such  a  being  to  ivill  or  to 
act  ?  It  seems  evident  that  his  existence  could  only  be  a  state 
of  passive  contemplation.  Reason,  as  reason,  can  never  be 
a  motive  to  action.  It  is  only  when  we  superadd  to  such  a 
being  sensibility,  or  the  capacity  of  emotion  or  sentiment, 
(or  what  in  Corporeal  cases  is  called  sensation,)  of  desire  and 
aversion,  that  we  introduce  him  into  the  world  of  action. 
We  then  clearly  discern,  that,  when  the  conclusion  of  a  pro- 
cess of  reasoning  presents  to  his  mind  an  object  of  desire,  or 
the  means  of  obtaining  it,  a  motive  of  action  begins  to  ope- 
rate ;  and  reason  may  then,  but  not  till  then,  have  a  power- 
ful though  indirect  influence  on  conduct.  Let  any  argument 
to  dissuade  a*  man  from  immorality  be  employed,  and  the 
issue  of  it  will  always  appear  to  be  an  appeal  to  a  feeling. 
You  prove  that  drunkenness  will  probably  ruin  health.  No 
position  founded  on  experience  is  more  certain.  Most  persons 
with  whom  you  reason.must  be  as  much  convinced  of  it  as 
you  are.  But  your  hope  of  success  depends  on  the  drunk- 
ard's fear  of  ill  health  ;  and  he  may  always  silence  your 
argument  by  telling  you  that  he  lov.es  wine  more  than  he 
dreads  sickness.  You  speak  in  vain  of  the  infamy  of  an  act 
to  one  who  disregards  the  opinion  of  others  ;  or  of  its  im- 
prudence to  a  man  of  little^ feeling  for  his  own  future  condi- 
tion. You  may  truly,  but  vainly,  tell  of  the  pleasures  of 
friendship  to  one  who  has  little  affection.  If  you  display 
the  delights  of  liberality  to  a  miser,  he  may  always  shut 
your  mouth  by  answering,  "the  spendthrift,  may  prefer 
such  pleasure  ;  I  love  money  more."  If  you  even  appeal  to 
a  man's  conscience,  the  may  answer  you,  that  you  have 
clearly  proved  the  immorality  of  the  act,  and  that  he  him- 
self knew  it  before  ;  but  that  now,  when  you  had  renewed 
and  freshened  his  conviction,  he  was  obliged  to  own,  that 


4p       RELATION  OF  THE  INTELLECT 

his  love  of  virtue,  even  aided  by  the  fear  of  dishonour, 
remorse,  and  punishment,  w^as  not  so  powerful  as  the  desire 
vrhich  hurried  him  into  vice."* — He  concludes  with  remark- 
ing, that  it  is  thus  apparent,  that  the  influence  of  reason  on  the 
will  is  indirect j2iYid  arises  only  from  its  being  one  of  the  chan- 
nels, by  which  the  objects  of  desire  or  aversion  are  brought 

near  to  these  springs  of  voluntary  action. 

• 

§.  19.   The  understanding  reaches  {he  will  through  the  sensibili- 
ties. 

While,  therefore,  we  may  be  assured,  that  there  is  an 
established  and  fixed  connection  between  the  understanding 
and  the  will,  and  that  they  are  by  the  constitution  of  our  na- 
ture reciprocally  indispensable  to  each  other,  this  connection 
is  not  to  bft  regarded  as  direct  and  immediate,  but  the  under- 
standing affects  the  will  through  the  medium  of  the  Sensi- 
bilities. The  direct  connection,  therefore,  of  the  understand- 
ing is  with  the  sensibilities  ;  and  with  that  portion  of  them, 
which  are  appropriately,  and  by  way  of  distinction  from,  the 
other  sentient  states  of  the  mind,  termed  the  Emotions.  It 
is  true,  there  is  no  resemblance  between  an  emotion  and  a 
mere  perception  or  thought  ;  in  their  nature  they  are  entirely 
different  from  each  other.  "  An  emotion  of  pleasure  or  pain, 
in  the  language  of  Mackintosh,  differs  much  more  from  a 
mere  perception,  than  the  perceptions  of  one  sense  do  from 
those  of  another.  The  perceptions  of  all  the  senses  have 
some  qualities  in  common.  But  an  emotion  has  not  necessa- 
rily any  thing  in  common  with  a  perception,  but  that  they 
are  both  states  of  the  mind." 

But  these  two  classes  of  mental  states,  although  they  dif- 
fer so  entirely  in  their  nature,  are  placed  in  juxta-position 
to  each  other  ;  by  which  we  mean,  that  one  is  immediately 

♦View  of  the  Progress  of  Ethical  Philosophy,  Section  V. 


TO    THE    WILL. 


47 


successive  to  the  other,  or,  in  other  words,  that  they 
hold  the  relation  of  antecedence  and  sequence.  And  it  is 
here,  that  the  understanding  makes  its  approaches  tipon  the 
voluntary  power,  and  contributes  to  its  being  called  into  ac- 
tion, as  will  be  seen  more  distinctly  in  some  remarks  of  the 
following  chapter. 

§.  20.    The  acts  of  the  intellect  the  direct  antecedents  to 
•  emotions. 

Let  us  delay  here  a  moment,  and  notice  that  marked  and 
interesting  fact  in  our  mental  economy,  that  knowledge  is 
the  foundation  of  emotion  ;  keeping  in  mind,  that  the  knowl- 
edge of  a  particular  subject  is  but  the  intellect  itself  brought 
into  a  new  position  in  relation  to  that  subject.  All  the 
knowledge  which  men  have  relates  either  to  matter  or  mind  ; 
to  the  outward  and  external,  or  to  the  invisible  and  spiritual 
world.  But  in  both  its  great  forms,  and  under  whatever 
possible  aspect  it  may  exist,  we  find  it  to  be  attended  with 
emotion.  No  man  walks  the  earth,  and  contemplates  its  va- 
riegated features,  its  mingled  yet  harmonizing  exhibitions 
of  wood  and  water,  of  hill  and  vale,  and  tree  and  flower,  and 
sun  and  cloud,  without  experiencing  the  origin  of  a  feeling 
within  him  additional  to  the  mere  perception  of  these 
objects.  There  is  a.  gush  of  pleasure,  a  flo^  of  emotive  sen- 
sibility, which  is  better  known  by  the  experience  than  by 
any  description.  The  emotion,  however,  is  not  alwaj^s  of 
the  same  kind.  There  are  times  and  places,  where  nature 
puts  on  her  more  awful  and  frowning  aspects,  wher«  she 
appears  in  storm  and  power  and  gloom.  And  then  the  emo- 
tion ascends  from  the  merely  beautiful  to  the  grand  and 
sublime. 

And  there  are  also  other  objects  of  knowledge  than  mere 
natural  objects  ;  all  the  various  and  wonderful  attributes  of 


48       RELATION  OF  THE  INTELLECT 

mind  ;  the  patience  and  the  fortitude,  and  the  joy  and  the 
sorrow,  and  the  magnanimity  and  the  crime  and  the  justice, 
which  diversify  the  history  of  the  human  race.  The  knowl- 
edge of  these  too,  (for  every  thing  is  dormant  until  the  intel-^ 
lect  has  put  itself  in  exercise  and  has  explored  the  objects 
which  come  within  its  sphere,)  arouses  the  Sensibility,  and 
calls  forth  the  strongest  emotions  ;  not  only  emotions  of 
the  beautiful  and  sublime,  of  joy  and  sorrow,  but  of  appro- 
val and  disapproval,  according  to  the  nature  and  character  of 
the  thing  which  is  presented  before  us. 

§.  21.  Emotions  change  with  changes  in  the  intellectual 
perceptions. 

We  may  not  only  lay  down  the  general  truth,  that  emo- 
tions depend  for  their  existence  on  the  antecedent  acts  of 
the  intellect,  bjit  also  that  the  character  of  the  emotion  will 
vary  as  a  general  thing,  with  changes  in  the  intellectual  per- 
ceptions. All  objects  become  more  or  less  interesting  to  us, 
more  or  less  radiant  with  glory  or  dark  with  degradation,  as 
we  know  more  or  less  about  them.  That  scenery  of  nature, 
which  seemed  to  us  exceedingly  beautiful  at  first,  will  at 
once  appear  less  so,  on  the  discovery  of  some  new  object, 
which  is  judged  by  us  discordant  with  its  general  character. 
That  exquisite  picture,  which  charms  us  at  the  first  glance, 
will  excite  still  stronger  emotions  of  pleasure,  wheji  we 
examine  it  carefully  in  all  its  parts.  That  man  of  riches, 
who  beholds  his  granaries  and  coffers  with  so  much  joy, 
when  he  sits  down  to  reason  coolly  upon  the  true  value  of 
the  wealth  he  possesses  ;  when  he  considers  that  it  will 
corrupt  the  morals  and  prove  the  destruction  of  his  children, 
and  that  it  will  arouse  the  endless  upbraidings  of  his  own 
conscience  for  the  means  he  employed  in  acquiring  it,  will 
be  likely  to  find  the  feeling  of  joy  withering  within  him, 
and  those  of  sorrow  and  remorse  taking  its   place.      How 


TO    THE  WILL.  49 

many  cases  tkere  are  of  moral  conduct,  which,  on  first  being 
made  known  to  us,  have  called  forth  the  most  decisive  ap- 
probation ;  but  which,  on  a  further  examination  of  the 
motives  of  the  actors,  have  changed  their  character,  and  lost 
all  their  moral  glory  !  How  many  friends  have  gladdened 
us  by  their  countenance,  which  seemed  to  beam  with  a  heav- 
enly excellence,  but  have  afterwards  filled  us  with  loathing 
and  abhorrence,  when  we  tave  found,  that  their  pretended 
friendship  was  merely  assumed  to  cloak  their  private  views, 
and  to  carry  their  selfish  ends  ! 

And  thus  it  is  with  all  objects  of  knowledge,  as  they 
.become  more  fully  explored  either  in  themselves,  or  in  their 
relations.  According  as  they  change  their  aspect  under  the 
inspection  of  the  intellect,  they  are  invested  with  a  new 
character  from  the  emotions.  But  if  all  emotion  depends 
essentially  upon  intellect,  and  all  change  of  emotion  depends 
essentially  upon  change  of  intellect,  we  shall  hereafter  have 
occasion  to  see,  even  more  fuJly  than  has  yet  been  pointed 
out,,  how  close,  and  indispensable  the  bond  is,  which  unites 
the  intellectual  to  the  voluntary  power.  . 

§.  22.    The  powers  of  the  will  not  perfectly  correspondent  to 
those  of  the  intellect. 

But,  although  the  intellect  thus  lays  the  original  founda- 
tion of  the  acts  of  the  will,  we  are  not  necessarily  to  infer, 
that  there  is  an  exact  correspondence  and  proportion  be- 
tween them.  In  other  words  we  are  not  to  infer,that  the  vigour 
of  the  wiLi«  is  always  in  exact  proportion  to  the  expansion 
and  vigour  of  the  intellect.  It  was  a  sagacious  remark. of 
the  distinguishe4  painter  Fuseli,  which  we  venture  to  assert 
a  careful  observation  will  fully  confirm,  that  nature  does 
not  always  '^proportion  the  will  to  our  powers  ;  it  sometimes  as- 
signs a  copious  proportion  of  will  to  min4s,  whose  faculties 


50  RELATION    OF    THE    INTELLEC  T 

are  very  contracted, and  frequently  associates  with  the  great- 
est faculties  a  wUl  feeble  and  impotent."*— The  will  appears 
to  require,  as  the  b,asis  of  its  action  in  any  given  case,  only 
a  certain  sphere  of  knowledge  ;  and  any  amount  of  knowl- 
edge beyond  that  sphere  will  not  necessarily  affect  the  ener- 
gy of  the  voluntary  action  either  one  way  or  the  other. 
Some  instances, will  explain  more  clearly  what  we  mean. 

In  Dr.  Goldsmith,  so  justly' celebrated  for  his  various 
literary  productions,  we  may  notice  no  inconsiderable  grasp 
of  intellect,  combined  with  a  will  not  fully  proportioned  to 
it.  Distinguished  as  a  poet,  a  comic  writer,  and  a  novelist, 
his  conduct  through  life  was  marked  with  an  exceeding  in-, 
firmity  of .  purpose.  With  a  perfect  understanding  of  the 
impositions,  of  which  .he  was  made  the  subject,  he  still  had 
not  promptness  and  decision  enough  to  counteract  them. 
His  biographer  asserts,  that  he  could  not  give  a  refusal  ;  and 
being  thus  cheated  with  his  eyes  open,  no  man  could  be  a 
surer  and  easier  dupe  to  the  iraposters,  whose  arts  he  could 
so  well  describe.^ 

•  May  we  not  also  adduce  the  mental  traits  of  a  man  still 
more  distinguished  ?  The  intellect  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton 
seemed  capacious  enough  to  embrace  the  whole  circle  of 
knowledge  ;  nothing  among  men  could  well  exceed  the 
grasp  of  his  understandings  but,  if  we  carefully  compare 
the  statements  given  by  his  biographers,  we  shall  probably 
be  convincedjthat  there  was  not  a  perfect  correspondence  and 
proportion  between  his  intellectual  and  his  voluntary  power; 
that  he  often  exhibited  no  small  infirmity  and  indecision 
of  purpose  ;  a  gigantic  strength  of  thought,  united  with  a 
childlike  uncertainty  and  flexibility  of  actioy.  After  he  had 
completed  his  great  work,  the  Principia,  and  had  placed  the 

♦Cunningham's  Lives  of  Painters,  Art.  Fuseli. 
t  Scott's  Lives  of  the  Novelists,  Art.  Goldsmith. 


TO    THE    WILL.  5I 

the  new 'philosophical  creed  on  an  immovable  basis,  we  are 
told  he  was  unwilling  to  give  it  to  the  world,  probably 
through  fear  df  the  controversies  it  might  occasion  ;  and  that 
he  was  induced  to  do  so  through  the  urgent  importunity  of 
some  of  his  intimate  friends* — In  the  case  of  Newton,  how- 
ever, it  may  not  be  nefcessary  to  assert  positively,  as  in  that 
of  Goldsmith  and  maiiy  others,  that  there  was  a  natural  defi- 
ciency or  weakness  of.  the'will,  since  we  are  at  liberty  to 
attempt  another  explanation.  The  will,  like  the  other  mental 
powers,  strengthens  by  exercise,  and  -grows  languid  and 
weak  by  disuse.  But  this  great  pliilosopher  was  almost 
constantly  employed  in  inquiries  beyond  the  ordinary  sphere 
.  of  the  world's  motives  and  actions  ;  and  as  he  consequently 
had  but  little  occasion  for  calling  the  voluntary  power  into 
exercise,  we  may  well  suppose  that  it  tost  in  some  degree 
its  natural  vigour. 

§.  23.  ^n  energetic  will  sometimes  found  in  connection  with 
limited  powers  of  intellect. 

And  if,  on  the  one  hand,  a  great  grasp  of  intellect  is  not 
always  attended  with  a  voluntary  energy  corresponding  to 
it,  we  find  on  the  other,  that  inferiority  of  intellect,  (we  do' 
not  speak  now  of  extreme  cases,  but  of  such  as  are  of  every 
day's  occurrence,)  is  not  necessarily  accompanied  with  di-- 
minished  power  of  the  will.  The  sphere  of  the  will's  action  is 
of  course  diminished  in  such  instances  ;  but  it  is  possible 
for  it  to  exhibit  great  vigour  within  that  limited  sphere.  It 
has  but  a  small  field  to  work  in,  but  it  does  its  duty  faith- 
fully and  promptly  in  the  restricted  lihaits  allotted  it.  It  is 
not  an  uncommon  thing  to  find  men  of  great  resolution  and 
decision,  whose   want  of  iijtellectual   ability     must  always 

*  Brewster's  Life  of  Newton,  Chap.  XL — Cumberland's  Memoirs,  p.  9. — 
D 'Israeli's  Curiosities  of  Literature,  Vol.  2d,  p.  165. 


52         RELATION   OF   THE    INTELLECT  &c. 

confine  then(i  to  the  ordinary  ranks  of  life.      If  the   ener- 
gy of  their  intellect  could   be  expanded  so  as  to  be  in  pro- 
portion to  the  energy   of   their    will,  they  would    real- 
ize  in  their  own  persons  the  noble  character    of  Cinciniia- 
tus  at  the  plough.    And  even  among  men  in  the  more  exalted 
stations,  we  sometimes  find  the  combination  of  a  restricted 
intellect  with  a  fearfully  imperative  will.      And   if  they  are 
esteemed  great  men,  it  is  not  necessary  to    contest  the  title, 
but  it  is  evidently  the  ascendency  of  the  will,  and  that  alone, 
which  gives  them  their  high  merit  in  the  eyes  of  the  public. 
It  has  been  remarked  of  the  renowned  marshal  Key,  that  he 
was  scarcely  capable  of  putting  two  ideas  together.   Although 
this  is  an  exaggeration,  it  is  very  certain,  that  his  great  celeb- 
rity does  not  rest  upon  his  comprehensive  views  and  powers 
of  reasoning,  but  almost  solely  on  his  surprising  promptness 
and  resolution  in  action  5    in  other  words,  on  the  promptness 
and  force  of  the  will. — But  it  will  be  necessary  to  resume  this 
subject  again.     All  that  we  wish  to  say  now  is,  that,  although 
there  is  a  connection  between  the  understanding.and  the  will, 
and  the  one  is   the  basis  of  the   life   and  activity   of  the 
other,  there   is  not  a  perfect   correspondence  between  the 
two,  and  that  the  power  and  activity  of  the  one  does  not  fur- 
nish a  perfect  measure  of  the  ability  and  promptness  of  the 
other. 


OF  THB 

UNIVERSITY^ 
CHAPTER  THIRD. 


RELATION  OF  THE  SENSIBILITIES  TO  THE 
WILL. 


§.  2*4.  General  statement  in  explanation  of  the  term  sensibilities. 

Having  proceeded  thus,  far,  in  considering  the  relation 
which  the  Understanding  sustains  to  the  will,  we  advance  a 
step  further  into  the  interiour  of  the  mental  nature,  and  con- 
sider more  particularly  the  relation  which  the  Sensibilities  sus- 
tain to  it.  We  have  already  had  occasion  to  remark,  that  the 
doctrine  formerly  prevalent  of  the  will's  being  controlled  by 
the  last  dictate  of  the  understanding  is  untenable,  and  that 
the  understanding  is  in  no  case  in  direct  contact  with  the 
voluntary  power.  They  are  entirely  removed  from  each 
other,  and  thp  space  between  them  is  occupied  by  another 
portion  of  the  mind,  of  the  greatest  interest  and  importance, 
viz,  its  sentient  states,  and  which  of  course  has  a  more  direct 
connection  with  the  will.  But  before  attempting  to  illus- 
trate this  connection,  it  is  hecessary  to  state,  in  a  few  words, 
what  is  properly  included  under  the   term  Sensibilities. 

It  may  be  said  in  general  terms  without  professing 
to  be  specific  and  exact,  that  every  thing  is  to  be  in- 
cluded tinder  the  word  Sensibilities,  which  implies  feel- 
ing.       The    expression    may  be    regarded    as    meaning 


54  RELATION  OF    THE    SENSIBILITIES. 

the  same  as  the  word  heart  does,  in  those  numerous  pas- 
sages of  English  writers,  where  the  heart  is  spoken  of  in 
distinction  from  the  heud  of  the'  understanding.  ^'Loyalty, 
(says  Junius  in  his  First  Letter,)  in  tlie  heart  and  understand- 
ing of  an  Englishman,  is  a  natural  attachment  to  the  guardian 
of  the  laws."  Such  expressions  a^  these  of  this  celebrated 
writer,  implying  a  distinction,  between  the  intellectual  and 
sentient  nature,  are  to  be  found  without  numl)er  ;  so  Fre- 
quently at  least  as  to  authorize  the  presumption,  that  they 
are  well  understood.  When  we  say  of  an  individual,  that  he 
has  a  vigorous  intellect  but  a  perverted  heart,  or  on  the 
otha:  hand  i;haracterize  him  as  possessed  of  a  just  and 
generous  heart  in  combination  with  a  weak  intellect,  we 
rightly  count  on  such  expressions  being  easily  and  read- 
ily apprehended.  We  use  the  term  Sensibilities,  therefore, 
as  meaning  essentially  the  same  with  the  heart,-  as  it  is  em- 
ployed in  such  passages.  But  this  statement,  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted, is  so  general  and  indefinite,  that  it  se^ms  necessary 
to-  designate  more  particularly  what  is  included  under  the 
term.  .  •         ■    •  '  .  * 

§.  25.   Of  what  are  strictly  included  under  the  sensibiUties. 

The  states  of  mind  coming  under  the  general  head  of  the 
Sensibilities  may  be  arranged  under  the  three  subordinate 
classes  of  Emotions,  Desires,  an(J  feelings  of  Obligation  ; 
including  under  the  class  of  the  Desires  certain  complex 
states  of  mind,  of  which  desire  makes  a  prominent  part, 
such  as  the  appetites,  propensities,  and  affections.  'Of 
these  th^ee  subordinate  classes,  the  Emotions  naturally  pre- 
sent themselves  first  to  our  consideration.  These  feelings 
are  very  various  in  kind,  such  as  the  emotions  of  cheerful- 
ness and  joy,  of  melancholy  and  sorrow,  of  surprise,  aston- 
ishment, and  wonder  ;  the  emotions  of  beauty  ;^rani3eur,  and 


TO    THE    WILL.  55 

sublimity  ;  the  emotions  of  the  ludicrous,  and  the  emotions  * 
of  approval  and -disapproval.  As  the  emotion's  are  sinaple 
states  of  the  mind,  it  woujd  be  of  no  avail  to  attempt  to  de- 
fine them  ;  hut  the  knowledge  of  them  must  be  left  to  the 
testimony  of  each  one's  consciousness.  But  it*  is  to  be  pre- 
sumed, that  no  one  is  ignorant  of  what  is  meant  when  we 
speak  of  cheerfulness,  of  wonder,  of  melancholy,  of  beauty, 
grandeur,  and  the  like.  • 

■  Besides  Emotions,  we  have  the  subordinate  class  of  De- 
sires included  under  the  general  head  of  sentient  stat'es  of 
the  mind  or  sensibilities.  The  knowledge  of  these  too  must 
be  had  chiefly  from  consciousness*  No  mere  form  of  words 
can  illustrate  their  nature  as  distinguished  from  that  of  emo- 
tions, independently  of  that  internal  experience  which  is  im- 
plied in  an  act  of  consciousness,  excepting  in  the  single  cir- 
cumstance, that  emotions  are  instantaneous*,  while  there  is 
apparently  a  greater  permanency  in  desires.  These  last 
continue  the  sape  as  when  they  first  arose,  so  long  as  the 
objects   Jowards  which  they  are  directed  are  the  same,  while 

the    emotions   are  in    general  more    transitory. Under. 

the  •  class  of  Desires  may .  be  included,  as  has  already 
been  stated,  the  appetites,  such  as  hunger  and  thirst  ;  the 
PROPENSITIES,  such  as  curiosity  or  the  desire  of  knowledge, 
the  innate  desire  of  esteem,  the  principle  of  imitation,  socia- 
bility or  {he  desire  of  society,  ambition  or  the  desire  of 
power,  and  the  like  ;  and  the  affections,'  both  the  malevo- 
lent, and  those  of  a  beneficent  tendency.  . 

To  these  may  al§o  be  added,  as  belonging  to  and  as 
forming  a  clistinct  portion  of  the  sentient  constitution,  the 
feelings  of  Obligation.  It  would  be  inconsistent  witU  the 
plan,  which  we  propose  to  pursue,  to  go  very  fully  into  the 
nature  of  Obligatory  sentiments.  The  difference,  existing 
between  them  and  the  Desires,  will  probably  be  obvious  to 


56  RELATION  OF  THE   SENSIBILITIES 

'every  one  on  even  a  slight  internal  examinatfon.  Nor  is 
thenC,  in  general,  any  danger  of  their  being  confounded 
with  the  Emotions,  excepting  thgse,  which  are  also  of  a 
moral  nature,  viz,  of  approval  and  disapproval.  But  here 
also  the  distinction  is  not  an  imperfect  or  obscure  one.  The 
emotions  of  approval  and  disapproval,  with  some  trifling  ex- 
ceptions more  apparent  than  real,  have  reference  entirely 
to  the  character  of  objects  and  actions,  that  are  either  past  or 
present.  The  states  of  mind  on  the  contrary,  which  involve 
obligation  and  duty^  have  reference  to  the  future  ;  to  some- 
thing, which  is  either  to  be  performed  or  the  performance  .of 
which  is  to  be  avoided.  They  bind  us  entirely  to  what  is  to 
come.— There  is  also  this  additional  ground  of  distinction 
between  the  two,  that  the  feelings  of  obligation  are  always 
subsequent  in  point  of  time  to  the  approving  or  disappro- 
ving emotions  ;!  and  cannot  possibly  exist,  unless  prece- 
ded by  them.  The  statement,  (to  introduce  here  what  we 
^ave  already  said  on  another  occasion  wjien  more  fuUy 
examining  this  gubject,)  is  susceptible  of  illustration  in  this 
way.  Some  complicated  state  of  things,  involving  moral 
considerations,  is  presented  before  us  ;  we  inquire  and  exam- 
ine into  it ;  emotions  of  approval  and  disapproval  then  arise. 
And  this  is  all  that  takes  place,  if 'We  ourselves  have,  in  no 
way  whatever,  any  direct  and  active  concern,  either  present 
or  future.  But  if  it  be  otherwise,  the  moral  enjotions  .are 
immediately  succeeded  by  a  distinct  and  imperative  feeling, 
viz,  the  sentiment  of  obligation,  which  binds  us,  as  if  it  were 
the  voice  of  God  speaking  in  the  soul,  to  act  or  not  to  act,  to 
do  or  not  to  do,  to  favour  or  to  oppose.  How  common  a 
thin^  it  is  for  a  person  to  say,  that  he  feels  no  moral  obliga- 
tion to  do  a  thing,  because  he  does  not  approve  it,  or  on  the 
contrary,  that,  approving  any  proposed  course,  he  feels  un- 
der obligation  to  pursue  it ;  language,  which  undoubtedly 


TO    THE    WILL.  57 

means  something,  and  which  implies  a  distinction  between 
the  mere  moral  emotion  and  the  feeling  of  obligation  ;  and 
which  tends  to  prove  the  prevalence-  of  the  common  belief, 
that  the  feeling  of  obligation  is  subsequent  to,  and  depend- 
ent on  that  of  approval  or  disapproval.*  These  statements, 
though  necessarily  brief,  will  help  to  show  what  are  strictly 
included  under  the  term  sensibilities. 

§.  26.  Jlcts  of  the  intellect  in  immediate  proximity  with  emx)-* 

lions. 

In  considering  those  states  of  mind,  wliich  are  termed 
SENTIENT,  in  distinction  from  the  intellectual,  we  have  to 
remark  further,  that  of  the  various  classes  of  feeling  named 
in  the  preceding  section,  the  Emotions  come  first  in  order. 
That  is  to  say,  in  proceeding  from  the  intellect  to  the 
will  through  the  sensibilities,  which  is  obviously  the  road 
that  nature  has  laid  out  and  established  to  the  exclusion  of 
every  other,  we  find  the  intellections  in  contact,  or  more 
properly  speaking,  in  immediate  proximity  with  the  emotions. 
The  first  step  taken  from  the  understanding  to  the  heart  is. 
into  the  region  of  the  emotions,  and  not  into  that  of  the 
desires,  or  of  the  feelings  of  obligation.  And  here  it  is 
proper  again  to  observe,  as  we  had  occasion  to  notice  in  the 
preceding  chapter,  that  the  original  and  sole  foundation  of 
emotions  is  knowledge,  which  implies  of  course  the  action 
of  the  intellect.  This  is  an  ultimate  fact  in  our  constitution, 
which  therefore  we  cannot  resolve  into  any  thing  else. 
Whenever  an  object  of  knowledge  is  presented  before  lis,  of 
whatever  kind,  we  are  so  constituted,  that  we  necessarily 
have  a  correspondent  emotion,  either  pleasing  or  displeas- 
ing ;  though  in  many  cases,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  the 
emotion  is  so  very  slight  as  to  give  the  object  the  appear- 
ance of  being  perfectly  indifferent.     And  even  if  we  should 

*  Elements  of  Mental  Philosophy,  3d.  Abridged  Ed.  p.  586. 
8 


53  RELATION    OF   THE   SENSIBILITIES 

admit,  that  there  may  be  some  objects  of  knowledge,  (or  in 
other  words  some  intellectual  perceptions,  which  amounts  to 
the  same  thing,)  that  are  perfectly  indififerent,  being  wholly 
unattended  with  emotions,  it  will  still  remain  true,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  there  can  be  no  emotions  without  some  ob- 
ject of  knowledge,  without  some  preceding  intellectual  act. 
The  natural  progress  of  the  mind,  therefore,  in  bringing  the 
will  into  action,  is  from  intellections  to  emotions. 

*  If  we  are  asked,  how  a  mere  intellectual  perception  can 
excite  an  emotion,  which  two  are  things  entirely  distinct 
from  each  other.  Sill  we  can  answer  is,  that  such  is  the  mind's 
constitution.  The  Creator  of  the  mind  has  willed  it  to  be 
so.  He  has  ordained,  by  a  wise  and  permament  -arrange- 
ment, that  the  landscape  should  inspire  within  us  senti- 
ments of  beauty,  that  the  vast  cataract  should  inspire 
emotions  of  grandeur  or  sublimity,  that  the  perception  of 
wise  and  benevolent  conduct  in  others  should  be  attended 
with  an  instantaneous  emotion  of  approval. — And,  further- 
more, wherever  there  is  a  clear  and  just  perception,  the 
emotion  will  not  only  necessarily  arise,  but  there  will  gen- 
erally be,  though  it  may  not  always  be  the  case,  an  entire 
correspondence  between  the  two.  That  is  to  say,  the  emo- 
tion will  be  the  true  and  precise  measure  of  the  natural  and 
moral  beauty  of  objects,  and  of  their  deformity  ;  and  the 
true  measure  of  all  other  qualities,  which  are  fitted  to  excite 
emotions.  We  say,  where  there  is  a  clear  and  just  per- 
ception, for  it  is  undeniable,  that  the  perception^  is  often 
perplexed  and  clouded  by  inexcusable  carelessness,  by  in- 
ordinate passion,  by  strong  casual  associations,  and  for  oth- 
er reasons  ;  and  that,  in  consequence  of  this,  the  cor- 
respondence, which  ought  to  exist  between  the  emotion 
and    the   true  nature    of   the  object  before  the   mind,  fre- 


TO    THE    WILL.  59 

quently  fails.  But  in  all  those  cases,  where  there  is  no  erro- 
neous and  unnatural  influence  operating  on  the  understand- 
ing, we  shall  seldom  fail  to  find  a  due  adaptation  and  har- 
mony between  these  two  parts  of  our  nature. 

§.  27.  Emotions  not  in  proximity  with  volitions. 

Acts  of  the  understanding  or  intellections  are,  by  the 
constitution  of  our  nature,  antecedent  to  emotions.  But 
while  it  is  thus  obvious,  that  emotions  stand  be1?ween  intel- 
lections and  volitions,  we  are  not  to  suppose,  that  emotions, 
although  they  are  one  step  nearer  the  will  than  the  mere  ^ 

acts  of  the  understanding,  are  in  direct  contact  with  it,  or 
have  of  themselves  alone  any  power  over  it.  It  may  be  as- 
serted with  perfect  confidence,  if  we  had  these  feelings  ^ 
alone,  the  will  would  never  be  brought  into  action.  They  j 
have  no  more  natural  tendency  to  cause  volition  than  mere  '  ; 
thought,  than,  the  most  unimpassioned  and  abstract  specula- 
tions of  the  intellect.  Let  us  take  some  illustration.  A  per- 
son contemplates  some  picture  of  excellent  workmanship, 
which  appears  to  him  beautiful  or  sublime,  and  excites  within 
him  emotions  of  that  character  ;  but  the  existence  of  these 
emotions  merely  never  calls  forth  any  act  of  volition.  He 
stands,  and  gazes,  and  the  tide  of  emotion  swells  in  upon 
him,  and  he  is  overwhelmed  with  it.  But  while  this  portion 
of  his  Sensibilities  alone  is  awakened  and  called  into  exer- 
cise, he  will  remain  as  inactive,  as  if  he  had  been  formed  of 
intellect*  merely .  He  will  take  no  measures  to  possess  the 
painting  or  to  do  any  thing  else  in  respect  to  it,  until  he  is 
under  the  influence  of  another  portion  of  the  Sensibilities 
entirely  distinct  from  ^motions. 

§.  28.  Emotions  followed  by  desires  and  feelings  of  obligation. 

We  behold  here  the  admirable  economy  of  the  mind,  q 


60  RELATION    OF   THE    SENSIBILITIES 

decisive  and  striking  proof  of  that  wisdom,  which  pervades 
its  wonderful  structure.  Intellectual  perceptions  lay  the 
foundation  of  emotions,  and  if  these  last  cannot  reach  and 
influence  the  higher  and  more  authoritative  power  of  the 
will,  it  is  so  ordered  in  the  mental  constitution,  that  they  lay 
the  foundation  of  other  mental  states,  which  can.  The 
classes  of  feelings,  of  which  the  emotions  may  be  regarded 
as  the  basis,appear  to  be  two  in  number,  namely  the  Desires, 
founded  on  the  various  emotions  which  give  pleasure  or 
displeasure,  and  Feelings  of  obligation,  founded  on  the  emo- 
tions of  approval  and  disapproval. 

And  in  the  first  place  a  word  or  two  may  be  said  on  the 
Desires.  It  has  been  seen,  that  intellections  are  not  in 
direct  connection  with  the  desires,  but  that  emotions  inter- 
vene. The  acts  of  the  understanding  alone  can  never  raise  a 
single  desire.  In  no  case  whatever  does  a  man  assert  his 
desire  of  a  thing,  unless  he  is  pleased  with  it  either  in  itself, 
or  in  its  relations  and  applications .  But  if  there  be  no  desire 
without  the  intervention  of  some  emotion,  then  it  is  evident, 
that  the  mere  knowledge  of  the  thing,  towards  which  the  de- 
sire is  directed,  is  not  sufficSnt  to  excite  it  ;  but  on  the  con- 
trary, without  something  more  than  the  mere  acts  of  the  un- 
derstanding, it  could  never  exist .  The  process  of  ike  mindythere  - 
fore,  is  from  intellections  to  emotions,  and  from  emotions  to  desires. 
The  intellectual  perceptions  lay  the  foundation  for  the  vari- 
ous emotions  both  pleasant  and  painful  ;  and  the  desires  are 
attendant  upon  these.  We  desire  a  house  and  its  furniture  ; 
we  desire  a  picture  or  a  statue,  or  other  objects  of  conven- 
ience, utility,  and  beauty  ;  because  they  excite  emotions 
and  give  us  pleasure,  but  not  otherwise. 

And  if  we  are  here  asked,  why  the  emotions  should  lay 
the  foundation  of  desires,  we  can  only  say,  as  in  respect  to 
to  the  general  fact  that  intellections  lay  the  foundation  of 


TO    THE  WILL.  g  j 

emotions,  it  is  the  constitution  of  our  nature.  The  same 
creatiye  power  that  requires  emotions  to  follow  the  percep- 
tions of  the  understandingjhas  instituted  the  succession  of  the 
desires  to  emotions.  And  it  is  in  Desires  tha't  we  find  the 
immediate  antecedents  to  the  acts  of  the  Will.  They  pre- 
sent to  it  a  powerful  motive.  They  furnish  to  it  one  of 
its  broadest  grounds  of  action. 

§.    29.  Further  remarks  mi  obligatory  feelings. 

But  the  class  of  mental  states,  which  are  termed  emo- 
tions, are  followed  not  merely  by  Desires,  but  also  by  an- 
other class,  distinct  from  Desires  and  yet  sustaining  the 
same  relation  of  proximity  to  the  will,  which  for  want  of  a 
single  term  we  have  been  obliged  to  denominate  Feelings  of 
obligation.  Desires  are  founded  on  those  emotions,  which 
involve  what  is  pleasurable  or  painful,  while  Obligatory 
feelings  are  exclusively  based  on  emotions  of  a  different 
kind,  viz.  those  of  approval  and  disapproval.  These  states 
of  mind,  although  they  are  easily  distinguished  by  our  con- 
sciousness from  desires,  agree  with  the  latter  in  being  in  di- 
rect contact  with  the  voluntary  power,  and  not  unfrequeutly 
these  two  classes  stand  before  tho  will  in  direct  and  fierce 
opposition  to  each  other. 

We  are  aware,  that  the  representation  has  sometimes 
been  given  by  writers,  that  the  emotions  of  approval  and 
disapproval  are  in  direct  proximity  with  the  will,  and  exert 
a  direct  control  over  it.  But  this  is  not  true  of  any  emo- 
tions whatever,  those  of  approval  and  disapproval  as  well  as 
others.  They  all  stop  short  of  the  will,  and  require  the  in- 
tervention of  some  t)ther  state  of  the  mind .  We  put  forth 
emotions  in  approval  or  disapproval  of  a  certain  action  or  a 
certain  course  of  conduct,  but  they  will  never  lead  us  to  ex- 
ert any  effort  of  our  own,  until  they  are    followed   by  the 


62  RELATION  OF    THE    SENSIBILITIES 

distinct  feelings  of  obligation.  Hence  the  common  re- 
mark, that  we  feel  an  obligation  to  pursue  a  certain 
course,  because  we  approve  it ;  which  implies,  that, 
while  the  feelrng  of  approval  is  the  antecedent  to  that  of 
obligation,  the  latter  is  the  direct  and  effective  antecedent  to 
volition.  A  view  of  this  portion  of  the  mind,  which,  we  are 
persuaded,  will  bear  the  strictest  internal  examination,  and 
will  not  fail  to  be  found  true. 

§.  30.  Desires  and  obligatory  feelings  in  contact  with  the  will. 

We  are  now  able,  looking  at  the  mind  in  its  great  out- 
lines, to  understand  the  precise  •relation,  which  its  prominent 
parts  hold  to  the  will.  Volition  is  the  great  result,  to  whiah 
they  all,  in  their  appropriate  position,  contribute  ;  and  with 
which  they  all,  therefore,  sustain  an  established  connection* 
though  not  with  the  same  degree  of  nearness.  And  taken 
together,  they  furnish  a  basis  for  the  operations  of  "the  will, 
sufl&ciently  extensive  not  only  for  the  purposes  of  action, 
but  of  accountability.  We  here  see,  that,  in  the  exercise  of 
volition,  men  are  not  shut  up  to  one  form  of  action  ;  but  are 
enabled  and  required,  in  all  cases  where  such  a  distinction 
actually  exists,  to  discriminate  between  the  utile  and  the 
HONESTUM,  between  the  desirable  and  the  just,  between  what 
is  merely  profitable  or  prudential,  and  what  is  virtuous.  And 
it  is  undoubtedly  important,  that  these  views  should  be  borne 
in  mind,  for  they  have  a  direct  and  close  bearing  upon  man's 
accountability,  and  also  upon  the  question  of  his  freedom. 
And  a  due  degree  of  attention  should  be  given  to  all  consid- 
erations, which  have  a  tendency  to  settle  these  interesting 
questions. 

§.31.     Opinions  of  metaphysical  writers  on  the  foregoing 
statements. 

The  doctrines,  thus  far  advanced  in  this  chapter,  find  sup- 


TO  THE    WILL.  63 

port,  in  their  essential  and  most  important  respects,  in  vari- 
ous writers.  It  is  true  that  the  distinction  between  desires 
and  feelings  of  obligation  has  not  been  so  clearly  drawn 
and  so  much  insisted  on,  as  it  should  be,  although  almost  all 
writers,  either  more  formally  or  incidentally,  seem  to  ac- 
knowledge, that  the  moral  nature  jfresents  direct  and  power- 
ful motives  to  the  will,  as  well  as  those  parts  of  our  consti- 
tution, which  involve  mere  pleasure  and  desire.  In  respect 
to  the  relation,  sustained  by  desires  to  the  will,  there  is 
more  explicitness.  Mr.  Locke,  in  particular,  repeatedly  and 
clearly  asserts  their  proximity  to  volition.  He  does  indeed 
say,  that  uneasiness  determines  the  will,  (§.  31.  of  the  Chap- 
ter on  Power,)  but  we  need  not  mistake  how  this  is  to  be 
interpreted,  when  we  remember  he  expressly  adds,  besides 
giving  his  reasons  for  the  remark,  "this  uneasiness  we  may 
call,  as  it  is,  Desire."  And  in  accordance  with  this,  we  find 
him  remarking  as  follows,  in  a  subsequent  section  of  the 
same  chapter.— "I  have  hitherto  chiefly  instanced  in  the  un- 
easiness of  desire,  as  that  which  determines  the  will,  because 
that  is  the  chief  and  most  sensible,  and  the  will  seldom  or- 
ders any  action,  nor  is  there  any  voluntary  action  perform- 
ed, without  some  desire  accompanying  it ;  which  I  think  is 
the  reason  why  the  will  and  desire  are  so  dften  confounded. 
But  yet  we  are  not  to  look  upon  the  uneasiness  which  makes 
up,  or  at  least  accompanies  most  of  the  other  passions,  as 
wholly  excluded  in  the  case.  Aversion,  fear,  anger,  envy, 
shame,  &c.  have  each  their  uneasiness  too,  and  thereby  in- 
fluence the  will.  These  passions  are  scarce  any  of  them  in 
life  and  practice  simple  and  alone,  and  wholly  unmixed  with 
others  ;  though  usually  in  discourse  and  contemplation,  that 
carries  the  name  which  operates  strongest,  and  appears  most 
in  the  present  state  of  the  mind  :  nay,  there  is,  I  think, 
scarce  any  of  the  passions  to  be  found  without  desire  joined 


64  RELATION  OF  THE    SENSIBILITIES 

witfi  it.  I  am  sure,  wherever  there  is  uneasiness,  there  is 
desire  ;  for  we  constantly  desire  happiness  ;  and  whatever 
we  feel.of  uneasiness,  so  much  it  is  cert^n  we  want  of  hap- 
piness, even  in  our  own  opinion,  let  our  state  and  condition 
otherwise  be  what  it  will.  Besides,  the  present  moment 
not  being  our  eternity,  whatever  our  enjoyment  be,  we  look 
beyond  the  present,  and  desire  goes  with  our  foresight,  and 
that  still  carries  the  will  with  it.  So  that  even  in  joy  itself, 
that  which  keeps  up  the  actioii,  whereon  the  enjoyment  de- 
pends, is  the  desire  to  continue  it,  and  fear  to  lose  it :  and 
whenever  a  greater  uneasiness  than  that  takes  place  in  the 
mind,  the  will  presently  is  by  that  determined  to  some  new 
action,  and  the  present  delight  neglected."* 

§.32.   Of  the  strength  of  the  desires. 

While  we  are  upon  this  part  of  the  general  subject,  we 
may  properly  remark,  as  it  may  be  found  to  have  some  con- 
^nection  with  what  will  be  said  hereafter,  on  the  strength  of 
the  desires.  The  intensity  of  the  desires,  and  also  of  the 
emotions  on  which  they  are  founded,  will  not  unfrequently 
vary  in  different  individuals,  even  when  they  are  acting 
together,  in  reference  to  the  same  object,  and  nearly  under 

the  same  circumstances. The  cause  of  this  variation  may 

be  found,  in  the  first  place,  in  the  intellect  or  understanding. 
The  relatiqn  existing  between  the  understanding  and  the 
sensibilities  has  already  been,  in  some  measure,  explained. 
And  those  explanations  will  throw  a  ready  and  clear  light 
upon  the  present  topic.  We  are  so  constituted,  as  it  would 
seem  from  the  remarks  now  referred  to,  that  the  emotions  we 
have,  whether  pleasant  or  painful,  will  vary,  as  a  general 
thing,  with  our  knowledge.  If  we  happen  on  some  occasion 
to  be  pleased  with  any  natural  or  artificial  object,  we  shall 
find,  that  the  pleasurable  emotion  v»  ill  be  increased  or  di- 
*  Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,  Bk,  II,  Ch.  XXI,  §.  39. 


TO  THE.  WPLL.  65 

minished  by  our  further  knowledge,  either  of  its  excellencies 
or  its  defects.  And  as  the. natural  progress  of  the  nfind  is 
from  the  emotions  to  the  desires,  it  will  also  happen,  that 
the^tcength  of  the  desires  will  vary  in  accordance*  with  the 
variation  in  the  intensity  of  the  emotions. ,        ' 

We  will  illustrate  *thi^  by  a  single  instancie.  We  may 
assume,  (and  indeed  have  abundant  reason  to  believe  it  to 
be  the  fact,)  that  the  venerable  Thomas  Clarkson,  who  has 
been  the  instrument  of  effecting  so  much  for  sufferijig  Africa, 
is  naturally  a  person  of  a  kindly  and  amiable  disposition,  and 
easily  moved  by  exhibitions  of  human  woe.  But  how  did 
it  happen,  that  this  individual  felt  and  effected  so  much  in  op- 
position to  the  Slave  Trade,  while  others  of. equal  amiability 
neither  felt  nor  acted  }  The  explanation  is  an  easy  one, 
and  it  throws  light  upon  the  operations  of  the  human  mind. 
Tn  the  year  1785,  the  vice-chancellor  of  the  University  of 
Cambridge,  with  which  Mr  Clarkson  was  connected,  gave 
out  as  the  subject  of  a  prize  essay,  ^^Anne  lieeat  invitos  in 
servitutem  dare?  Is  it  right  to  enslave  others-  against 
their  will?"  He  wrote  upon* this  subject,  arid  gained  the 
prize.  And  it  was  the  knowledge,  which  he  acquired  in 
writing  this  Essay,  that  affected  his  heart ;  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  facts,  which  were  before  unknown  to  him,  and 
his  sensibilities  were  moved  ;  he  knew  and  then  he  felt ;  he 
wept  over  the  mass  of  human 'Suffering  that  was  displayed  be- 
fore him,  not  because  he  was  actually  of  a  more  benevolent 
disposition  than  he  was  the  year  before,  or  of  a  more  benev- 
olent temperament  than  a  hundred  others  in  Great  Britain, 
but  because  he  had  become  acquainted  with  it.  And  when 
he  had  known,  and  when  he  had  felt  new  desired  and  new 
feelings  of  obligation  enkindling  within  him,  he  saw  there 
was  nothing  remaining  for  him  but  to  will  and  to  do,  to  re- 
solve and  to  act.      And  from  that  time  he  has  devoted  his 

useful  life  to  Africa. 
9 


GO  RELATION    OF    THE    SENSIBILITIES 

(2) — But  it  is  necessary  to  add,  that  the  mere  amount  of 
knowledge  does  not  seem  sufficient  of  itself  to  explain  fully 
the  difterences  of  sensibility,  which  we  notice  in  different  per- 
sons. Whatever  may  have  sometimes  been  said  to  the  contra- 
ry, there  can  hardly  be  a  doubt,  that  the  minds  of  men,  though 
compacted  of  the  same  essential  elements,  differ  from  each 
other  in  the  modification  and  exhibition  of  those  elements,  as 
much  as  the  general  form  of  their  bodies  and  their  looks  dif- 
fers. And^if  we  find,  that  theiVe  is  a  constitutional  difference 
in  the  powers  of  perception,  memory,  reasoning  and  the  like, 
we  may  expect  to  find  that  there  is  naturally  and  constitu- 
tionally a  greater  quickness  and  strength  of  emotions  and 
of  consequent  desires  in  some  than  in  others.  And  this  is 
confirmed  by  constant  observation.  It  would  certainly  be 
deemed  a  very  reasonable  assertion,  and  fully  confirmed  by 
the  whole  course  of  his  life,  that  the  benevolent  Howard 
was  possessed  of  greater  quickness  and  power  of  sensibility 
than  many  others.  We  do  not  mean  to  say  that  all  he  did 
was  owing  solely  to  the  natural  quickness  of  his  sensibilities. 
It  was  undoubtedly  the  fact,  that  the  food,which  he  furnished 
to  the  understanding,  nourished  the  sensibilities  also  ;  but  it 
was  equally  true,  that  the  sensibilites  were  naturally  and 
strongly  predisposed  to  receive  such  nourishment. 

If  these  views  be  correct,  then  in  endeavouring  to  influ- 
ence a  person  to  pursue  a  certain  course  of  conduct,  we 
must  consider  not  only  the  character  and  value. of  the  object 
which  is  presented  before  him,  but  the  temperament  of  the 
man.  The  object,  that  will  bring  one  promptly  into  action, 
may  approach  heavily  and  weakly  the  more  sluggish  and 
indurated  heart  of  another. 

§.  33.   Of  the  strength  of  feelings  of  obligation. 

Essentially  the  same  views  will  apply  to  feelings  of  obli- 
gation.    Like  the  desires,  their  degree  of  strength  will  vary, 


TO    THE  WILL.  67 

in  the  first  place,  with  the  amount  of  our  knowledge.  In 
other  words,  the  more  fully  and  completely  we  understand 
a  moral  action,  in  itself  and  in  its  relations,  the  stronger  we 
may  reasonably  expect  will  be  our  feelings  of  approval  or 
disapproval.  But  it  has  been  seen,  that  the  mere  feelings 
of  approval  and  disapproval  never  of  themselves  excite  the 
will,  and  lead  us  to  action.  They  must  be  followed  by  feel- 
ings of  obligation  ;  and  the  strength  of  these  last  will  cor- 
respond very  nearly  with  that  of  the  antecedent  moral  emo- 
tions. If  the  emotions  be  strong  and  there  is  an  opening  in 
the  matter  for  any  personal  action,  the  feelings  of  obligation, 
which  necessarily  follow  theto,  will  .be  proportionately 
strong. 

But  here  also,  as  in  the  case  of  the  desires,  there  may  be 
a  constitutional  difference  in  individuals.  As  some  persons 
appear  to  inherit  from  nature  a  quicker  sensibility  to  the 
beauty  or  deformity  of  natural  objects  than  others,  so  in  re- 
gard to  things  of  a  moral  character,  the  emotions  of  some 
persons  are  found  to  be  faint,  while  those  of  others,  though 
there  is  precisely  the  same  amount  of  knowledge  in  both 
cases,  are  distinct  and  vivid.  And  if  nature  may  thus  lay  a 
foundation  for  a  difference  in  the  emotions,  it  necessarily 
lays  a  foundation  for  a  difference  in  those  feelings  of  obli- 
gation, of  which  moral  emotions  are  the  basis.  Did  not  na- 
ture do  more  for  the  moral  constitution  of  Aristides  than  for 
that  of  Alcibiades  ?  And  was  Re^ulus,  who  sacrificed  his 
life  to  preserve  his  honour,  on  an  equality  in  this  respect 
with  Caesar,  who  sacrificed  both  his  honour  and  his  country 
to  his  ambition  ? 

§.  34.   Of  the  influence  of  the  sensibilities  on  the  understanding. 

Before  quitting  the  subject  of  the  relations  sustained  by 
the  sensibilities,  we  have  a  remark  further  to  make.  The 
sensibilities  have  not  only  an  influence   onward,  that   is   to 


68  RELATION    OF    THE    SENSIBILITIES 

say,  upon  th,e  will ;  but  backwardv  upon  the  understanding. 
The  power  of  the  heart  over  the  intellect  has  been  often  no- 
ticed by  theological  writers  ;  nor  can  it-  have  escaped  the 
knowledge  of  any  one,  who  has  made  the  opinions  and  con- 
duct of  men  a  subject  of  careful  observation.  It  is  not  un- 
frequently  the  case,  that  ^we  anticipate,  with  a  great  degree 
of  confidence,  the  decisions  of  a  person  on  a  purely  specula- 
tive subject,  from  a  knowledge  of  his  desires,  prejudices,  and 
predominant  passions.  But  the  fact  is  so  obvious  and  so 
generally  acknowledged,  that  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  to 
say  something  in  explanation  of  it. 

In  the  first  place*  a  knowledge  of  the  constitution  of  the 
human  mind  would  lead  us  to  expect,*  that  the  action  of  the 
intellect  will  not  be  free  and  unembarrassed,  when  the  sen- 
sibilities are  in  a  state  of  great  excitement.  It  has  been 
made  sufficiently  clear  in  this  and  the  preceding  chapters 
that  the  tendency  of  the  mind,  in  its  great  departments  of 
the  COGNITIVE,  SENTiEi\T,  and  VOLUNTARY,  is  towards  conse- 
cutive rather  than  simultaneous  action  ;  that  its  acts  follow 
each  other  in  a  certain  order  in  time  •,  that  there.is  no  feel- 
ing without  antecedent  cognition,  and  no  voluntary  action 
without  the  antecedent  action  of  the  sensibilities.  A  simul- 
taneous action,  therefore,  of  the  intellect  and  of  the  sensibil- 
ities, in  an  equal  degree,  seems  to  be  inconsistent  with  those 
general  principles  of  movement,  which  pervade  the  mental 
constitution.  Accordingly  when  the  intellect  is  at  the  higk- 
est  point  of  action,  the  passions  will  be  subordinate;  and 
when,  on  the  other  hand,  the  passions  are  highly  excited, 
the  operations  of  the  intellect  will  be  feeble  and  obscure. 
Hence  it  is,  that  every  man,  when  he  is  about  entering  upon 
an  investigation  of  an  abstract  and  difficult  nature,  is  desir- 
ous of  freeing  himself  from  the  disturbing  forces  of  the 
heartj^'and  of  commencing  his  task  with  perfect  coolness. 


TO    THE    WILL.  (J9 

(2) — But  there  is  another  point  of  view,in  which  this  sub- 
ject may  be  contemplated.  It  is  i\ot  merely  of  the  occasion- 
al predominance  of  the  passions  that  the  intellect  may  com- 
plain ;  there  is  often  a  secret  influence  of  the  sensibilities, 
which  attracts  less  notice,  but  is  hardly  less  powerful ; 
which  does  not  absolutely  interrupt  the  exercise  of  the  un- 
derstanding, but  perverts  it.  For  instance;  we  often  find  it 
difficult  to  form  a  correct  judgment,  where  our  own  person- 
al interests  are  concerned,  or  those  of  our  family  or  political 
party.  Our  love  has  woten  itself  so  closely  around  those 
partial  interests,  that  even  the  keen  eye  of  the  understand- 
ing can  scarcely  penetrate-  its  folds.  And  when  it  does,  it 
"beholds  every  thing  under  a  false  medium  ;  all  that  is  ex- 
cellent, magnified  and  made  prominent ;  and  all  that  is  evil, 
diminished  and  kept  out  of  sight.  And  what  love  has  done 
for  our  own  interests,  jealousy  and  ill  will  and  hatred  have 
done  for  interests  adverse  to  our  own.  These  last,  as  well- 
as  the  more  amiable  passions,  hinder  the  approach  of  the 
searchings  of  the  intellect  ;  and  when  this  is  no  longer  pos- 
sible, they  distort  the  objects  of  its  examination . 


CHAPTER  FOURTH. 


VOLITIONS  OR  VOLUNTARY  STATES  OF  MIND. 


§.  35.   The  necessity  of  that  controlling  power  which  exists 
in  the  will. 

In  the  remarks  hitherto  made,  although  enough  has  been 
said  to  evince  clearly  the  distinct  existence  of  the  Will, 
very  little  has  been  said  in  illustration  of  its  appropriate  na- 
ture. This  will  now  be  made  a  distinct  subject  of  consider- 
ation. But  before  entering  directly  upon  its  examination, 
we  take  this  opportunity  to  say  something  of  the  great  ne- 
cessity of  that  regulative  and  controlling  power,  of  which 
the  will  is  justly  deemed  to  be  the  depository. 

Destitute  of  the  power  of  willing,  is  it  not  evident,  that 
man  would  be  an  inefficient  and  useless  being  ?  He  would 
indeed  be  possessed  of  the  intellect  and  the  sensibilities  ;  but 
it'is  well  understood,  and  has  already  been  remarked  in  res- 
pect to  the  intellect,  that  the  value  of  these  depends,  in  a 
great  degree,  upon  action  ;  in  other  words,  upon  the  practi- 
cal results,  to  which  they  lead.  But  the  doctrine,  .that  man 
can  bring  himself  into  action,  without  the  power  of  willing, 
seems  incomprehensible.    And  if  we  could  suppose  it  to  be 


VOLITIONS.  71 

otherwise,  and  if  it  were  possible  to  try  the  experiment  of 
basing  human  action  directly  upon  the  emotions  and  pas- 
sions instead  of  the  will,  it  would  soon  show  itself  to  be  a 
species  of  action  of  the  most  perplexed  aijd  desultory  kind. 
Like  the  passions  themselves,  it  would  be  addicted  to  un- 
foreseen obliquities,  and  would  every  where  be  characteriz- 
ed by  indications  of  violence  and  change.  No  language 
could  fully  express  its  unfixedness,  its  versatility,  its  move- 
ments hither  and  thither,  in  various  and  contradictory  direc- 
tions. Unrestrained  by  any  superintendant  influence,  the 
whole  outwacd  life  and  activity  x)f  man  would  be  impelled* 
blindly  forward,  like  ships  driven  in  storms  without  a  rud- 
der, or  the  heavenly  bodies,  urged  onward  in  all  their  rapid- 
ity of  motion,  without  an  observance  of  the  principles  of 
gravitation. 

It  follows,  therefore,*  necessarily,  that  there  must  be 
somewhere  in  the  mind  a  power,  which,  amid  the  complica- 
ted variety  of  mental  impulses,  exerts  a  regulative  and  con- 
trolling sway.  And  without  such  a  superintendent  infli\^nce, 
we  might  justly  pronounce  the  structure  of  the  mind  defec- 
tive. *  ^         .    • 

§.   SQ.    The  harmony  of  the  mind  secured  by  the  superintend- 
ence oj  the  will,  • 

The  intellect  and  the  sensibilities,  in  their  various  forms 
of  action^  constitute  the  antecedents  to  volition.  When' 
called  into  exercise,  they  are  to  be  regarded  as  the  'estab- 
lished prerequisites  to  any  operation  on  the  part  of  the  will. 
And  here  we  see  occasion  to  notice,  how  much  the  beauty 
and  utility  of  the  various  parts  of  the  mind  depend  upon  the 
concurrent  action  and  support  of  the  other  parts  ;  and  that 
the  beauty  and  utility  of  the  whok  depend  upon  the  harmo- 
ny of  the  whole.    Wifhout  the  enforcing  power  of  the  will, 


72  VOLITIONS    OR 

every  man  would  be  ^'  a  house  divided  against  itself/'  con- 
stantl  y  exhibiting  a  scene  of  internal  hostility.    . 

Among  the  various,  elements,  that  are  shut  up  in  the -hu- 
man bosom,  there  are  some  highly  generous  and  virtuous, 
which  tend  to  assimilate  men  to  angels  ;  while  there  are 
others  inordinately  selfish  and  vicious,  and  which  tend  to  de- 
press them  both  in  character  and  in  destiny  ;  and  no  one  is 
ignorjant,  that  frequently  they  are  arrayed  against  each  oth- 
er in  direct  and  fierce  conflict.  And  in  this  state  of  things 
the  question  naturally  proposes  itself,  where  is  the  arbiter  ? 
*Who  shall  determine  this  great  contest,  sonietimes  invol- 
ving consequences  of  evel-lasting  import  ?  Who  shall  still 
these  internal  convulsions,  and  elicit  order  out  of  this 
mental  chaos  ?  In  answer  to  these  inquiries,  which  demand 
to  be  fully  and  frankly  met,  it  is  an  obvious  remark,  and  is 
undeniably  true,  that  we  have  the  power  within  us.  And 
that  power,  (and  it  would  be  difficult  to  designate  any 
other,)  is  the  authoritative  voice  of  the  will,  which,  seeing 
the  necessity  of  a  decision,  and  calmly  contemplating  the 
conflicting  claims  of  interest  and  passion  on  the  one  hand, 
and  of  conscience  on  the  other,  speaks  and  it  is  done, 
commands  and  it  stands  fast. 

The  will,  therefore,  is  the  culminating  point  in  man's 
spiritual  nature.  It  sits,  the  witness  aiid  the  arbitress  over 
all  the  rest.  It  is  essential  alike-  to  action  and  accountabil- 
ity, to  freedom  and  order,  to  intellig-ence  and  virtue.  .  With- 
out this  all  else  is  nothing.  It  is  in  "reference  to  this,  that 
all  other  susceptibilities  keep  their  station,  and  perform  their 
functions.  They  revolve  around  it  as  a  common  centre,  at- 
tracted by  its  power,  and  controlled  by  its  ascendency. 

•  ■ 
§.    37.  Remarks  on  the  nature  of  the  wiU. 

.  Having   seen  that  the  mind  is  to  be  contemplated  under 
the  threefold  aspect  of  iisTELLEctuAL,  SENTiENT,and  volunta- 


V^OLUNTARY    STATES    OF    MIND.  73 

RY,  and  having  considered  the  relation  which  the  intellect 
and  the  sensiliilities  bear  to  the  will,  we  are  now  prepared 
to  pass  to  the  consideration  of  the  precise  nature  of  the  last 
named  power.  And  here  let  us  interpose  a  Avord  of  caution. 
It  is  not  to  be  inferred,when  we  speak  of  one  part  of  the  mind 
in  distinction  from  a^o^^er/and  of  passing  from  one  part  or 
power  to  another,  that  the  mind  is  a  congeries  of  distinct 
existences,  or  that  it  is,  in  any  literal  and  proper  sense  of 
tbe  terms,  susceptible  of  divisnon.  Varieties  of  action  do 
not  necessarily  imply  a  want  of  unity  in  the  principle,  from 
which  they  originate.  The  mental  principle,  therefore,  is 
indivisible.  In  itself  it  is  truly  and  essentially  an  unity, 
though  multiplied,  in  a  manner  calculated  to  excite  the 
greatest  astonishment,  in  its  modes  of  ftpplication.  It  is 
merely  one  of  these  modes  of  its  application,  or  rather  one 
of  these  modes  of  its  exercise,  which  is  indicated  by  the 
term  Will.  Accordingly  the  term  Will  is  not  meant  to  ex- 
press any  thing  separate  frfem  thejnind  ;  but  merely  embod- 
ies and  expresses  the  fact  of  the  mind's  operating  in  a  par- 
ticular way.  And  hence  the  will  n^ay  properly  enough  be 
defined  the  mental  power  or  susceptibility,  by  which  we 
put  forth  volitions.  And  in  accordance  \VSth  this  definition, 
if  we  wish  to  understand  more  fully  what  the  nature  of  the 
power  is,  we  must  look  at  its  results,  and  examine  the  na- 
ture of  those  states  of  mind  which  it  gives  rise  to. — ''It  is 
necessary,  (says  Mr.  Stewart  very  justly,)  to  form  a  distinct 
notion  of  what  is  meant  by  the  word  volition,  in  order  to  un- 
derstand the  import  of  the  word  ivill ;  for  this  last  word  prop- 
erly expresses  that  power  of  the  mind,  of  which  volitiph  is 
the  od)  and  it  is  only  by  attending  to  what  we  experience, 
while  we  are  conscious   of  the  act,  that  we  can  understand 

any  thing  concerning  the  nature  of  the  power. ""* 

•*"  '■■,■■.•'■•-■ 

*  Philosophy  of  the  Moral  and  Active  Powers,  Appendix  I.  §.  1 .      '    . , . 

10 


i4  VOLITIONS    OR 

§.  2}.  'Of  the  nature  of  the  acts  of  the  will  or  volitions. 

Of  volitions,  which  are  the  results  of  the  existence  and 
exercise  of  the  voluntary  power,  we  are  unable  to  give  any 
definition  in  words,  which  wUl  of  itself  make  them  clearly 
understood.  They  are  simple  states  of  the  mind,  and  that 
circumstance  alone  precludes  the  possibility  of  a* definition, 
in  any  strict  and  proper  sense  of  the  term.  It  is  true  we 
may  call  them  determinations  or  decisions  of  the  n^nd,  or 
resolutions  ofthe  mind,  or  acts  gf  choice  and  the  like,  but 
th^s  is  only  the  substitution  of  other  terms,  which  them- 
selves need  explanation  ;  and  of  course  it  throws  no  light 
upon  the  subject  of  inquiry.  And  hence  we'  are  thrown 
back  upon  our  consciousness,  as  we  are  in  all  cases,  where 
the  nature  6f  the  simple  states  of  mind  is  the  matter  of  inves- 
tigation. And  whenever  we  have  made  this  appeal  to  the 
internal  experience,  and  have  received  its  testimony,  we  are 
then  placed  in  the  possession  of  all  that  knowledge,  which 
the*  nature  of  the  case  seems  to  admit  of.  And  we  must  sup- 
pose, that  every  one  has  in  some  degree  done  tliis.  It  is 
not  presumable,  at  least  it  is  not  at  all  probable,  that  men, 
who  are  constantly  in  action,  pursuing  one  course  and  avoid- 
ing another,  adopting  one  plan  and  rejecting  another,  ac- 
cepting and  refusing,  befriending  and  opposing,  all  which 
things  and  many  others  imply  voluntary  action,  are  still  ig^ 
norant  of  what  an  act  of  the  will  is. 

§.  G9.   Volition  never  emsts  without  some  object i 

Although  we  are  obliged  to  depend  chiefly  upon  con- 
sciousness for  a  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  volitions,  it  is 
still  true,  that  we  can  make  some  statements  in  respec}  to 
them,  which  may  aid  us  in  forming  our  opinions.  Among 
other  things,  it  is  an  obvious  remark,  that  every  act  of  the 


VOLUNTARY  STATES  OF  MIND.       75 

will  must  have  an  object.  A  very  slight  reflection  on  the 
subject  will  evince  this.  It  is  the  same  here  as  in  respect  to 
the  act  of  thought,  of  memory,  and  of  association,  all  of 
which  imply  some  object,  in  riBference  to  which  the  mental 
act  is  called  forth. 

"Every  act  of  the  will,  says  Dr.  Reid,  must  have  an  ob- 
ject. He  that  wills  must  will  something  ;  and  that  which 
he  wills  is  called  the  object  of  his  volition.  As  a  man  cannot, 
think  without  thinking  of  something,  nor  remember  without 
remembering  something,  so  neither  can  he  will  without  will- 
ing something.  ;  Every  act  of  will,  therefore,  must*  have 
an  object  ;  and  the  person,  who  wills,  must  have  some  con- 
ception, more  or  less  distinct,  of  what  he  wills."* 

§.  40.  It  exists  only  in  reference  to  wJ^t  we  believe  to  be 
.  '  '  "  in  our  power,  '  \*  ,  »- 

Another  circumstance  may  be  pointed'out  in  illustration 
of  volitions,  viz,  that  they  never  exist  in  respect  to  those  things, 
ichichwe  believe  to  be  wholly  btyond  our  reach.  As  no  man  be- 
lieves, that  it  is  in  his  power  to  fly  in  the  air  like  a  bird,  so 
we  never  find  a  person  putting  forth  a  volition  to  do  so.  As 
no  man  believes,  that  he  can  originate  what  never  had  a  be- 
ing before,  in  other  words  that  he  can  create  a  new  exist-, 
ence  out  of  nothing,  so  we  never  find  a  man  determining, 
resolving,  or  willing  to  that  effect.  Indeed  we  are  obvi- 
ously so  constituted,  that,  whenever  we  believe  an  object  to 
be  wholly  and  absolutely  beyond  our  power,  volition  does 
not  and  cannot  exist  in  respect  to  it.  The  very  nature  of 
'  the  mind-interposes  in  such  a  case,  and  effectually  obstructs 
the  origination  of  the  voluntary  act.  And  this  is  so  prompt- 
ly and  decisively  doncj  and  done  too  in  all  cases  without  ex- 

*Reid's  Essays  on  the  Active  Powers,  Essay  II,  Chap.  1, 


# 


76  VOLITIONS  OR 

ception,  that  we  find  it  very  difficult  even  to  conceirfe  of  any 
thing,  which  we  are  certain  is  wholly  beyond  our  power,  as 
being  an  object  of  the  will's  action.  There  may  be  a  desire 
in  such  cases,  but  there  is  no  volition.   -  ^/'''^:;-\'-:f  :■':'''■:,'  .''i': 

And  the  usage  of  language  will  be  found  to  throw  light 
on  this  distinction,  making  the  term  desire  applicable  both 
to  what  is  within  our  reach  and  what  is  not  ',  and  the  term 
VOLITION  applicable  only  to  the  former.  In  some  cases  we 
speak  of  willing  or  determining  to  do  a  thing,  while  in  oth- 
ers We  invariably  limit  ourselves  to  the  mere  expression  of  a 
wish  or  desire.  Accordingly  it  would  comport  with  and  be 
required  by  the  usage  of  language,  if  our  thoughts  and  con- 
versation were  directed  to  those  matters,  to  say,  tMlit  we 
determine  or  ivill  to^walk,  but  desire  to  fly  ;  tjiat  we  will  to 
buil^  a  house,  but  desire  to  create  a  world.  As  has  already 
been  intimated,  the  structure  of  the  mind  itself  seems  to  re- 
quire the  application  of  terms  in  this  way.  While  nothing 
is  more  common  than  to  speak  of  determining  or  willing  to 
sail  from  New  York,  New  Orleans,  or  some  other  mercantile 
place  to  London,  no  one  is  ever  heard  to  speak  o(  willing , 
but  of  only  desiring  or  wishing  to  sail  from  those  places  to 
the  peak  of  Chimborazo,  or  to  some  remote  planet  of  our 
own  or  some  other  system. 

§.  41.    Volition  relates  to  our  own  action  arid  to  whatever  else 
may  be  dependent  upon  us. 

Although  the  statements  thus  far  made  tend  to  throw 
some  light  upon  the  nature  of  voluntary  acts,  something  fur- 
ther remains  to  be  remarked.  It  does  not  seem  definite- 
enough  merely  to  assert,  that  volitions  relate  solely  to  those 
things  which  are  in  our  power,  or  are  believed  to  be  so. 
We  may  inquire  further  what  is  meanj;  by  being  in  our  powd- 
er, and  how  far  the  import  of  the  phrase  may  justly  extend 


VOLUNTARY    STATES    OF    M 

itself. — And  hence  it  is  necessary  to  add,  that 
late,  in  the  first  place,  to  our  own  action,  either  some  bodily 
movement  or  some  act  of  the  mind.  In  saying  this,  however, 
we  do  ]i»t  mean  to  say,  that  yolition  is  necessarily  limited 
to  the  present  action.  We  may  will  to  perform  sometljing  of 
the  simplest  kind,  which  will  exact,  in  its  execution,  merely 
the  present  moment,  or  something  of  a  more  complicated 
nature,which  will  require  no  inconsiderable  time.  Any  series 
of  actions  intellectual  or  bodily,  capable  of  being  performed 
by  us,  which  the  understanding  can  embrace  as  one,  and  by 
means  of  any  relations  existing  among  them  can  consolidate 
into  one,  the  will  can  resolve  upon  as  one.  So  that  the  ac^ 
tion,  dependent  upon  volition,  may  be  the  mere  -  movement 
of  the  foot  or  finger  ;  or  it  may  be  the  continuous  labours  of 
a  day,  a  week,  or  a  year,  or  some  long  and  perilous  expedi- 
tion by  land  or  sea*  It  is  just  as  proper  to  say,  that  a  man 
wills  to  take  a  voyage  to  England,  as  to  say  that  he  wills  to 
put  one  foot  before  the  other,  in  stepping  from  his  door  to 
the  street. 

Volition  may  exist,  in  the  second  place,  in  respect  to  any 
thing  and  every  thing,  which  is  truly  dependent  upon  us, 
however  circuitous  and  remote  that  dependence  may  be.  It 
is  proper  to  say,  that  a  merchant  has  determined  or  will- 
ed to  fit  a  vessel  or  a  number  of  vessels  for  sea,  and  to 
send  them  to  different  parts  of  the  world,  although  his 
own  direct  and  personal  agency  in  the^hing  is  hard- 
ly known.  The  effect  of  his  volition,  extending  far  be- 
yond his  Own  direct  and  personal  capabilities,  controls  the 
acts  of  a  multitude  of  individuals  who  are  digpendent 
on  him.  Previous  to  the  celebrated  expedition  of  Napo- 
leon into  Russia,  undoubtedly  that  distinguished  warriour 
had  brought  all  the  objects,  relative  to  the  intended  ex- 
pedition, distinctly  before  his  understanding  ;  the  number 
and  the  kinds  of  troops,  the  arms  and  amunition  with  which 


#■ 


78      •  VOLITIONS    OR 

they  were  to  be  furnished,  the  means  of  subsistence  in  the 
various  countries  through  which  they  were  to  pass,  and  the. 
expenses  incident  to  the  arijiing  and  support  of  a  body  so 
numerous.  The  action  of  the  intellect  enabled  him  t#  assim- 
ilate and  combine  this  vast  complexity  of  objects  into  one. 
Although  numberless  in  its  parts  and  details,  it  assumed,  as 
it  passed  before  the  rapid  glances  of  his  understandings,  an 
identity  and  oneness,  which,  for  all  the  purposes  of  volition 
and  Action,  constituted  it  one  thing.  And  accordin*gly  it  is 
altogether' proper  .to  say,*  that  Napoleon  purposed,  deter- 
ipified,  or  willed  the  expedition  into  Russia,  although  the 
agencies,  requisite  to  carry  it  into  effect,  were  not  lodged 
directly  in  himself,  but  in  millions  of  subordinate  instru- 
ments, that  were  mote  or  less  remotely  dependent  upon  him. 
— •"  It  is  not  necessary,  (says  a  recent  writer  in  remarking 
upon  this  very' subject,)  to  consider  volition  as  directing 
merely  our  6wn  physical  powers.  Any  power,  of  which 
wealth,  ranlt,  or  character  gives  us  the  command,  is  as  truly 
^the  instrument  of  our  will,  as  a  hand  or  a  foot,  The  despot, 
who  leads  forth  his  armies  of  obsequious  slaves  to  overthro  .v 
cities  atid  desolate  empires,  as  truly  m//s  these  events  as  to 
move  a  finger,  or  change  an  attitude."*  il  .  -.    i. 

,§.  42.   Volitions  rriay  exist  with  various  degrees  of  strength. 

*  -  .  ',  « 
There  is  one  additional  characteristic  of  volitions,  worthy 

of  sojne  notice  ,  vizj  that  the  volition  does  not  always  exist 
with  the  same  degree  of  force.  Undoubtedly  every  one 
must  have  been  conscious,  that  the  exercise  of  the  voluntary 
power  is  more  prompt  and  energetic  at  some  times  than  oth- 
ers. We  are  aware,  that  it  is  liable  to  be  objected  to  this 
statement,  that  if  we  will  do  a  thing,  there  can  be  nothing 
less  than  the  volition  ;  and  that  it  is  necessarily  the  same  un- 

*  Essay  on  Mqral  Freedom  by  Thomas  T.  Crybbace,  Sect.  II. 


VOLUNTARY    STATES    OF    MIND.  79 

der  all  circumstances.  And  it  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  we 
.  never  will  to  do  an  act  with  any  thing  less  than  a  volition;  and 
•that,  If  there  be  any  act  of  the  will  at  all,  it  is  one  truly  amd 
fully  so.  That  is  to  say,  the  act  is  in  all  cases  the  same,  as 
far  as  its  intrinsic  nature  is  concerned.  And  yet  we  may 
confidently  urge,  there  is  no  inconsistency  in  saying,  that  it 
may  exist  with  different  degrees  of  forc£. 

The  existence  of  a  mental  state,  which  is  always  the 
same  in  its  nature,  In  different  degrees,  is  not  peculiar  to 
volition.  *rhe  same  trait  is  characteristic  of  the  mental  act 
in  all  cases  where  we  yield  our  assent  or  belief.  The  state, 
of  mind,  which  we  denominate  belief,  is  undoubtedly 
always  the  same  in  its  nature,  but  admitting  of  various  de- 
grees. We  determine  these  differences  of  strength  in  the 
feeling  by  means  of  that  same  internal  consciousness,  which 
assures  us  of  the  existence  of  the  mere  feeling  itself.  In  other 
words,  w*e  are  conscious  of,  or  feel  bur  belief  to  be  some- 
tinies  weaker  and  at  other  times  stronger,  which  we  express 
by  various  terms,  such  as  presumption,  probability,  high 
probability,  and  certainty.  And  by  appealing  in  the  same 
way  to  our  consciousness  of  what  takes  place  within, 
we  shall  probably  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  we  put  forth 
the  act  of  volition  with  much  greater  strength  at  some  times 
than  others  ;  that  at  some  times  it  is  so  feeble  as  hardly  to 
be  distinguished  from  a  mere  desire  or  wish,  and  is  scarcely 
recognized  as  a  volition,  while  at  other  times  it  is  exceed- 
ingly marked  and  energetic.  ';V^%}'^'^   '      V  '  i  , 

§.  43.   Causes  of  the  variation  of  the  strength  of  the  voluntary 

.  .    .*".       ^'     •  ' .,  exercise. 

It  may  tend  to  throw  some  light  on  the  nature  of  the  varie- 
ties or  degrees  in  the  energy  of  the  voluntary  act,  if  we  make 
a  remark  or  two  in  explanation  of  the  cailses  of  them.    We  do 


eO  VOLITIONS    OR 

not,  however,  intend  to  say  any  thing  here  of  original  or 
constitutional  differences  of  the  voluntary  power.  We  set 
tUbt  topic  aside  for  the  j^resent,  because  we  shall  find  he^-e- 
after  a  more  suitable  opportunity,  where  we  can  pursue  it  at 
length.  The  degree  of  strength  in  the  voluntary  act,  consid- 
ered independently  of  any  constitutional  differences  which 
may  perhaps  exist,  will  be  found  to  depend  on  various  causes, 
two  of  which  are  particularly  worthy  of  notice . — In  the  first 
place,  as  volitions  cannot  exist  except  in  respect  to  those 
things  which  we  believe  to  be  in  our  power,  the*strength  of 
the  volition  will  naturally  be  in  proportion  to  the  strength  of 
such  belief.  It  has  already  been  seen,  that,  where  there  is 
n9  belief  of  an  object's  being  attainable,  there  can  be  no  vo- 
lition ;  and  we  should,  therefore,  conclude  a  priori,  that  the 
natural  tendency  of  a  diminution  of  belief  would  be  to  ope- 
erate  a  correspondent  diminution  of  the  voluntary  energy. 
Accordingly  we  find  it  to  be  generally  the  fact,  that,  when- 
ever the  possibility  of  securing  any  object  in  view  is  deci- 
dedly doubtful,  the  voluntary  act,  imbibing  a  sort  of  conta- 
gious hesitancy,  becomes  wavering  and  weak.  We  may  ac- 
cordingly lay  it  down  as  a  general  truth,  that  the  strength 
of  volitions  will  depend,  in  part  at  least,  on  the  probability 
of  securing  the  object  placed  before  us.  We  do  not  mean  to 
say.  that  thpre  is  necessarily  no  energy  of  volition,  where 
one's  path  is  hedged  up  with  doubts  and  difficulties,  for  it  is 
not  unfrequently  otherwise  ;  but  merely  to  assert,  that  the 
tendency  of  such  doubts  and  difficulties  is,  all  other  things 
being  equal,  to  infuse  into  such  energy  a  mixture  of  vacil- 
lancy  and  lassitude.  And  hence  it  is  a  common  artifi!ce,  if  a 
man  wishes  to  shake  another's  resolution,  to  represent  to  him 
the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  his  success,  and  to  insist  on  the 
improbability  or  his  securing,  the  object  before  him.  And  if 
we  notice  carefully^  we  shall  find  it  to  be  generally  true, 


VOLUNTARY    STATES    OF    MIND.  81 

although  it  may  not  always  be  the  case,  that  a  person's  efforts 
witl  become  enfeebled  and  less  energetic,  in  proportion  as  he 
yields  credence  to  such  discouraging  statements.  And  a  dim- 
inution of  active  efforts  of  course  implies  a  diminution  of 
voluntary  power. 

(2)  The  strength  of  the  volition  will  depend,  further- 
more, upon  the  state  of  the  Sensibilities .  If,,  for  instance, 
our  4esires  are  strongly  directed  towards  a  particular  object, 
and  if  there  be  no  antagonist  feeling  arising  up  to  obstruct 
and  counteract  them,*  it  may  be  expected  that  the  volition 
will  be  proportionably  strong.      And  if  it  happen  m  any  ^.    \ 

given  ease,  that  these  strong  desires  are  approved  and  aided 
by  the  feelings  of  obligation,  the  motive  to  action  will  thus 
be  greatly  increased,  and  the  force  of  the  voluntary  deter- 
mination or  resolve  will  be  likely  to  be  increased  in  propor- 
tion. And  if  it  be  the  case,  that,  there  is.  not  only  a  (ion- 
currence  of  the  obligatory  feelings  with  the  desires,  but 
that  the  feelings  of  obligation  as  wellas  the  desires  are  in- 
tense and  energetic,  it  may  reasonably  be  anticipated,  that 
the  energy  of  the  voluntary  act  will  still  further  be  aug-  . 
mented. 

In  regard  to  the  Sensibilities,  it  is  enoiigh  briefly  to  add 
here,that  the  degree  of  their  intensity  will  vary  from  various 
circumstances.     Those  differences  of  vividness  and  strength,  "  j 

which  we  notice  from  time  to  time,  may  be  owing  to  some 
constitutional  difference  in  persons,  as  we  have  already  in 
the  preceding   chapter  had  occasion  to- see.     Sometimes  the  J 

acuteness  and  vigor"  of  the  sensibilities  is  found  to  vary  also  • 

from  accidental  causes,  which   gannot   be   easily  explained.  -;vs^ 

And  in  particular,  they  will  generally  vary,  in  the  intensity  of  ^I^JJP 

their  action,  with  the  amount  and  character  of  our  knowl- 
edge, conforming  themselves  in  a  great  measure  to  the  pre^ 
cise  position,  whatever  it  may  be,  of  the  intellect. 

.    n    . 


82  VOLITIONS   OR 

§.  44.   Of  preference  or  indifferency  as  applicable  to  the  wilL 

In  some  treatises  on  the  Will,  much  is  said  of  the  will's 
being  in  a  state  of  preference  or  of  indifferency.  But  it  is 
questionable,  whether  the  terms  preference  and  indifferency 
are  properly  applicable  to  the  will  at  all.  The  prominent 
characteristic. pf  the  will  is  movement,  determination,  or  ac- 
tion, and  not  feeling.  There  is  no  toore  of  feeling,  no  ipore 
of  sensibility  in  the  Will  thaii  in  the  Intellect.  But  every 
one  Knows,  that  we  do  not  apply  the  'terms  preference  and 
indifference  to  the  intellect ;  to  the  acts  of  judgment,  and 
reasoning  ;  to  the  mere  process  of  comparison  and  deduc- 
tion. So  far  as  these  acts'a^-e  purely  intellectual,  and  with- 
out any  tincture  from  the  sensibilities,  they  are  perfectly 
,  cool  and  unimpassioncd.     And   one  is   not  more   so   than 

another  ;  but  all  are  unimpassioned  alike.  The.  emotion, 
desire,  and  passion,  which  are  sometimes  plausibly  ascribed 
to  them,  are  not  to  be  regarded  as,  in  any  case,  the  compo- 
nents or  constituents  of  the  intellectual  acts,  but  merely  the 
attendants.  No  man  says,  that  he  has  a  preference,  or  that 
he  is  indifferent,  whether  he  shall  believe  the  equality  of  the 
three  angles  of  a  triangle  to  two  right  ones.  This  is  a  mat- 
ter, where  both  preference  and  indifference,  choice  and  refu- 
sal ar^  alike  inadmissible.  He  is  impelled  by  the  very  con- 
stitution of  his  nature  to  believe,  if  ^here  is  evidence  ;  and 
,  on  the  other  hand  he  is  utterly  unable  to  believe,  if  evidence 

ft.  is  wanting  ;    and  in  all  cases  his   belief  necessarily  corres- 

%f,  ponds  with  the  evidence,  being  greater '  or  less,  in  accord- 

,1"  *  ance  with  it.  •  .       ^ 

#  But  indifferency  and  preference  are   equally   inapplica- 

ble to  the  Will,  although  it  may  not  be  so  obvious  at  first. 
A  careful  examination  will  hardly  fail  to  convince  one, 
that  these  terms  are  properly  and  emphatically  applica- 


VOLUNTARY   STATES    OF   MIND.  83 

ble  to  the  heart  or  sensibilities  5  to  that  portion  of  our  na- 
ture, which  is  the  appropriate  seat  of  the  emotions  and  de- 
sires, of  the  various  forms  ofdelight  and  sorrow,  of  love  and  • 
hatred.  It  would  naturally  be  expected,  therefore,  since 
the  intellect  has  nothing  in  its  distinctive  nature  in  common 
with  the  will,  and  neither  of  them  have  any  thing  in  their 
distinctive  nature  in  common  with  the  sensibilities,  if  indif- 
ference and  preference  are  properly  and  peculiarly  applica- 
ble to  the  sensibilities,  that  they  would  not  be  properly  and 
strictly  applicable  to  the  will  and  the  intellect.  It  belongs  -  ^ 
to  the  heart  to  prefer,  desire,  or  love  ;  or  to  be  indifferent, 
to  be  averse  from,  to  contemn,  or  hate.  But  the  appropri- 
ate business  of  the  will  is  merely  to  decide,  to  determine,  to 
.act  ;  expressions,  which,  together  with  many  others,  are  ap- 
plied to  the  voluntary  power,  but  all  with  the  same  import.  ^ 

It  ought  perhaps  to  be  added,  that  these  statements  are 
made  in  reference  to  the  common  and  well  understood  mean- 
ing of  the  terms  in  question.  If  it  could  be  shown,  that  in- 
difference implies  merely  a  negation  of  action  ;  in  other 
words  if  it  merely  expresses  the  fact  of  not  acting  in  any 
given  emergency,  then  indeed  we  might  admit,  that  the  term 
is  applicable  to  the  will.  But  it  will  probably  be  conceded 
that  the  term  is  not  commonly,  although  nt  is  sometimes  ifsed 
to  express  mere  absence  or  want  of  action,  but  rather  the 
absenc6  or  want  of  emotion  and  desire.  And  it  is  in  this 
sense,  and  not  in  that  of  a  mere  negation  of  action,  that  we 
assert  its  inapplicability  to  an  exercise  of  the  will. 


CHAPTER  FIFTH, 


DISflNGTION    BETWEEN  DESIRIJS  AND 
VOLITIONS. 


§t   43.    Of  an  objection  sometimes  made  to  the  general 
arrangement. 

In  making  the  general  classification  of  intellectual,  senti- 
ent, and  voluntary  states  of  the  mind,  it  is  necessarily  in- 
volved, that  we  separate  volitions,  which  constitute  the  third 
class,  from  desires,  which  are  in  included  in  and  make  a 
part  of  the  second.  Of  the  correctness  of  this  general  ar- 
rangement, in  its  giteat  features,  we  cannot  permit  ourselves 
to  doubt,  with  the  various  proofs  in  its  support,  which  pre- 
sent themselves  from  all  sides.  But  it  cannot  he  denied,  that, 
in  one  respect,  which  we  pow  proceed  to  notice,  it  has  not 
been  perfectly  satisfactory.  We  refer  to  the  objection 
sometimes  made  and  urged  with  confidence,  thatj  although 
volitions  may  clearly  be  distinguished  from  intellections  and 
als'o  from  emotions,  they  are  not  so  easily  distinguished 
from  that  portion  of  the  Sepsibilities,  which  are  denominated 
the  DESIRES.  Indeed  by  some  'writers  they  have  been  con- 
sidered the  same  as  desires  ;  and  their  claim  to  a  distinct  and 
independent  nature  has  been  wholly  rejected. 


DESIRES    AND    VOLITIONS.  85 

As  the  general  arrangement,  which  has  been  proposed,  is 
a  fundamental  one,  and  is  absolutely  essential  and  indispen- 
sable fo,  a  true  knowledge  of  the  will,  it  is  proper  to  attempt, 
not  only  to  establish  it  by  direct  proofs  in  its  favour,  but 
to  meet  and  obviate  any  objections,  which  may  have  been 
made  against  it,  whether  those  objections  relate  to  the  ar- 
rangement as  a  whole  or' to  any  of  its  parts.  The  objection, 
which  has  been  referred  to,  is  one  of  special  importance  ; 
and  we  shall  proceed  to  bestow  that  notice  upon  it,  which  its 
promTaehnce  claims  for  it.  We  speak  of  it  as  important,  be- 
cause it  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  much  of  the  obscurity, 
which  has  rested  upon  the  whole  subject  of,  our-  voluntary 
nature,  has  been  owing  to  a"  mistake  here.  And  obscurity 
will  exist,  as  long  as  the  mistake  continues.  We  may  even 
assert  with  confidence,  that  the  greatest  minds  will  fail  of 
bringing  the  important  inquiries,  involved  in  this  discussion, 
to  a  satisfactory  conclusion,  without  first  fully  and  correctly 
Settling  this  point,  viz,  that  the  state  of  mind,  which  we  term 
VOLITION,  is  entirely  distinct  from  that,  which  we  term  desire. 

§.     46.    Probable   cause  of  desires  and  volitions  being 
confounded. 

Before  proceeding  to  propose  our  comments  on  the  ob- 
jection before  us,  we  may  properly  make  the  remark,  that  it 
is,  on  the  whole,  not  extraordinary,  that  this  tendency  to 
confound  volitions  with  the  desires,  should  exist.  We 
always  find  it  difficult  to  separate  and  discriminate  those 
things,' which  have  been  long  and  strongly  associated.  Now 
it  is  well  known  that  volitions  and  desires  are  in  fact  very 
olosely  united  together,  as  antecedences  and  sequences. 
By  the  very  constitution  of  our  minds  they  go  together,  and 
are  the  sequents  and  precursors  of  each  other.  We  do  not 
mean  to  say  or  to  intimate,  that   the   acts   of  the   voluntary 


86  DISTINCTION     BETWEEN 

power  are  based  upon  the  desires  alone,  exclusive  of  every 
other  possible  motive  or  ground  of  its  exercise.  But  it  is 
undoubtedly  true,  that  the  desires  constitute  the  sole  antece- 
dent causes  of  volition,  (by  which  we  mean  the  sole  grounds 
or  occasions  of  volition, j  in  a  multitude  and  perhaps  a  ma- 
jority of  cases.  In  the  discharge  of  the  common  duties  of 
life,  in  those  every  day  matters  which  concern  what  we  shall 
eat  and  with  what  we  shall  be  clothed,  it  is  undeniable,  that 
we  generally  choose  those  things  and  pursue  that  course  of 
conduct,  which  are  most  pleasing,  and  which  most  strongly 
excite  our  desires.  In  far  the  greater  number  of  these  cases 
the  moral  part  pf  our  nature  furnishes  no  conflicting  motive 
and  presents  no  obstacle,  because  the  course,  which  our  daily 
necessities  prompt  us  to  take,  is  not  necessarily  of  a  char- 
acter to  require  the  interposition  of  the  moral  power.  There 
are  appetites  and  propensities,  which  have  their  natural  and 
appropriate  objects,  and  which,in  the  pursuit  of  those  objects 
in  accordance  with  the  original  intentions  of  nature,  have 
no  more  of  moral  character,  of  merit  or  demerit,  than  the 
instincts,  desires,  and  propensities  of  the  lower  animals. 
And  still  these  appetites  and  propensities  are  very  necessary 
parts  of  our  mental  constitution,  and  lay  the  foundation  of  a 
large  portion  of  men's  actions.  And  accordingly  in  all 
these  cases  desires  and  volitions  are  the  antecedents  and 
sequences  of  each  other.  Occupied,  therefore,  with  various 
interesting  and  necessary  objects  of  every  day's  occurrence, 
busied  with  the  pressing  cares  of  each  returning  hour,  it 
could  not  well  be  expected,  that  men  should  delay  upon  and 
carefully  discriminate  the  successiori  of  mental  acts.  And 
as  this  succession,  in  the  case  of  desires  and  volitions,  is 
]!ot  only  exceedingly  frequent,  but,  for  the  reasons  just  men* 
tioned,  very  rapid,  (so  much  so  in  fact  as  hardly  to  furnish 
any  basis  for  remembrance,)  we  gradually  fall  into  the  habit 


m 


DESIRES    AND    VOLITIONS.  §7 

of .  confounding  the  two  together,  and  at  last  come  to  be- 
lieve, that  there  is  in  truth  no  differenee  between  them. 

•     §.  ^^'    ^^^  distinction  of  desires  and  volitions  asserted  by 
consciousness. 

W[t\i  the  sifigle  further  remark,  that  the  tendency,  men- 
tioned in  the  preceding  section,  to  confound  together  these 
two  states  of  mind,  ought  to  be  carefully  guarded  against, 
we  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  some  things,  clearly  evin- 
cing the  distinction  between  them  which  we  maintain  to 
exist.  And  the  inquiry  naturally  presents  itself  here,  as  in 
respect  to  every  other  mental  state.  How  do  we  obtain  a 
knowledge  of  either  of  them?  If  we  consult  our  consciousness, 
which  is  an  original  and  authoritative  source  of  knowledge,  we 
find  it  decisively  ascribing  to  the  desires  a  distinct  existence, 
and  a  distinct  and  specific  character.  If  we  consult  it  again, 
we  find  it  returning  an  answer  with  equal  decision  and  clear- 
ness, that  volitions  too  have  an  existence  and  a  character 
equally  distinct  and  specific.  But  if  consciousness  asserts, 
in  both  cases,  the  reality  of  an  existence  stamped  with  a  spe- 
cific and  distinctive  character,  it  does  not  and  cannot  in  those 
satne  cases  assert  a  oneness  or  identity.  On  the  contrary,  it 
must  be  considered  as  decisively  pronouncing  an  entire 
separation  of  the  two  things,  however  nearly  they  may 
sometimes  approach  each  other. 

And  it  seems  proper,  when  we  consicler  the  jdifiiculties 
that  have  attended  these  inquiries,  to  insist  upon  this  testi- 
mony from  within.  It  is  exceedingly  desirable,  that  every 
one  should  reflect  carefully  and  patiently  upon  the  nature  of 
desire  and  the  nature  of  volition,  as  they  present  themselves 
to  our  internal  notice  in  those  various  circumstatices  of  en- 
ticement and  temptation  and  action,  in  which  we  daily  find 
ourselves  placed.     Those  cases  in  particular  deserve  notice, 


88  DISTINCTION     BETWEEN 

which  not  unfrequently  occur,  where  the  volitions  exist,  and 
where  we  resolve  to  carry  our  plans  into  effect,  in  disregard 
of  certain  opposing  desires,  which  have  been  overruled 
and  baffled.  Has  not  every  man  had  this  experience  ? 
When  under  the  influence  of  high  moral  sentiments,  has  he 
not  sometimes  determined  to  pursue  a  course  to  the  disap- 
pointment, of  many  fond  wishes,  of  many  lingering  and  cher- 
ished desires  ?  Now  let  him  recal  the  mental  feelings  and 
acts  at  such  times,  let  him  carefully  reflect  upon  them,  and 
will  not  consciousness  not  only  clearly  indicate  a  distinction, 
but  even  assert  the  impossibility  of  an  identity  in  the  case 
under  consideration  ?  We  cannot  entertain  a  doubt,  that  it 
will. 

§.  48.  Desires  differ  from  volitions  in  fixedness  and  permanency. 

There  is  one  particular,  on  which  our  consciousness  gives 
its  testimony,  which  it  is  thought  may  be  easily  and  clearly 
pointed  out.  Every  one  must  have  felt,  that  our  desires 
possess  a  considerable  degree  of  fixedness  or  permanency  ; 
and  that  they  are  distinguished  and -separated  from  volitions 
by  this  trait.  We  are  able  to  change  our  volitions  with 
great  rapidity  ;  if  we  may  so  express  it,  in  the  twinkling  of 
an  eye.  We  may  alter  them  a  thousand  times  a  day.  Within 
their  allotted  sphere  of  operation,  there  are  no  immutable 
lines  and  angles,  by  which  their  action  is  restricted  ;  but  on 
the  contrary  we  find  an  astonishing  quickness,  flexibility, 
and  variety  in  their  movements.  We  make  this  as  a  general 
statement,  without  pretending  that  there  are  no  exceptions. 
— But  while  this  is  obviously  true  of  the  volitions,  there  does 
not  appear  to  be  the  same  flexibility,  the  same  facility  of 
movement  in  our  desires .  We  may  indeed  change  them  after 
a  time,  and  ultimately  secure  a  greater  or  less  degree  of 
conformity  to  what  we  conceive   they  ought  to   be.      But 


DESIRES    AND    VOLITIONS.  89 

they  are  so  slow  in  movement,  so  heavy  and  refractory  ig 
the  mutations  they  undergo,  that  they  remind  us  rather  of  a 
burden  to  be  borne,  than  of  a  living  principle  of  elasticity 
and  vigour. 

We  believe,  that  this  statement  will  be  easilj^  and  clearly 
understood.  Can  the"  man,  who  is  in  prison,  suppress  in  a 
moment  and  without  an  eftbrt,  his  desires  to  see  his  beloved 
family  ?  Can  he,  who  is  an  exile  and  a  wanderer  in  a  dis- 
tant land,  easily  cease  to  remember,  and  to  long  for  the 
WQods  and  the  green  fields  and  the  mountain  airs  of  his 
childhood  ?  Every  one  must  know,  when  a  desire  is  once 
deeply  implanted  in  the  heart,  how  long  it  lingers,  how 
hard  it  is  to  be  overcome.  But  a  fixedness  of  the  desires  in  a 
particular  direction  does  not  necessarily  imply  a  fixedness  of 
the  volition  in  the  same  direction.  The  will  may  be  active, 
when  certain  desires  are  immovable,  because  .there  may  be 
other  objects  of  desire,  laying  the  foundation  of  its  various  de- 
cisions, or  there  may  be  objects  of  a  moral  nature,  presenting 
a  still  higher  and  nobler  motive.  When  the  heart  is  sick  and 
heavy  and  burdened,the  purpose  and  high  resolve  may  be  elas- 
tic and  full  of  energy.  Except  under  certain  marked  and  extra- 
ordinary circumstanceSjSome  of  which  will  hereafter  be  point- 
ed out]  we  are  never  conscious  of  that  iramovableness  of 
the  voluntary  power,  and  that  want  of  elasticity,  which 
often  attend  tl^e  desires.  But  these  statements,  which  we 
presume  to  say  are  founded  on  the  common  experience,  can- 
not be  true,  if  desires  and  volitions  are  identical. 

§ .  49 .  Further  proof  of  this  dietinction  from  language. 

'  May  it  not  also  be  said  with  a  good  degree  of  confidence, 
that,  in  the  use  of  language,  we  have  a  further  proof  of  the 
distinction  between  desire  and  volition  ?  It  is  certainly  the 
fact,  that  men  commonly  speak,  both  in  their  ordinary  con- 
versation and  in  writing,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  imply  their 
12 


90  DISTINCTION     BETWEEN 

« 

conviction  of  a  distinction  between  mere  desires  or  wishes 
on  the  one  hand,  and  purposes,  resolves,  or  determinations 
On  the  other.  As  this  distinction,  so  easily  and  frequently- 
observed,  may  be  found  prevalent,  not  in  one  only  but  in 
all  languages,  it  may  well  be  regarded  as  a  strong  evidence 
of  the  universal  consciousness  on  the  subject.  This  fact  has 
been  noticed,  and  set  in  a  strong  light  by  Dr.  Reid. — "De- 
sire and  will  agree  in  this,  that  .both  must  have  an  object, 
of  which  we  must  have  some  conception  ;  and,  therefore, 
both  must  be  accompanied  with  some  degree  of  understand- 
ing. But  they  differ  in  several  things.  The  object  of  desire 
may  be  any  thing,  which  appetite,  passion,  or  affection  leads 
us  to  pursue  ;  it  may  be  any  event,  which  we  think  good 
for  us,  or  for  those,  to  whom  we  are  well  affected.  I  may 
desire  meat,  or  drink,  or  ease  from  pain  ;  but  to  say  that 
I  will  meat,  or  will  drink,  or  will  ease  from  pain,  is  not  Eng- 
lish. There  is  therefore  a  distinction  in  common  language 
between  desire  and  will."' 

§.  50.  Sentiments  of  esteem  and  honour  often  imply  this 
distinction. 

It  will  further  be  seen  on  a  little  reflection,  that  the  dis- 
tinction under  consideration  is  implied  in  the  sentiments  of 
esteem  and  honour,  which  on  various  occasions  we  enter- 
tain in  respect  to  others.  It  seems  to  be  the  fact,  that  we 
often  bestow  esteem  and  honour  on  a  person,  because  he 
has  resisted  and  withstood  the  obvious  tendency  of  his  own 
inclinations  or  desires.  We  will  .take  a  very  common  in- 
stance, that  of  the  confirmed  drunkard.  The  wine  sparkles 
before  him  ;  his  tongue  and  throat  are  parched,  and  the 
strongest  desires  arise.  But  conscience  at  the  same  time 
urges  upon  him  the  claims  of  his  family,  his  country,-  and 
his  God.    After  enduring  this  inward   conflict  for  a  season, 


DESIRES    AND    VOLITIONS.  91 

he  resolves,  he  wills,  he  acts,  and  dashes  the  alluring  bowl 
to  the  ground.  Every  one  rejoices  at,  and  honours  the 
deed.  But  it  cannot  be  because  the  desire  has  been  grati- 
fied ;  but  because  the  person  has  willed  and  acted  against 
desire  ;  because,  in  the  opposing  array  and  contest  of  the 
powers  of  his  inferiour  nature,  desire  has  been  beaten,  and 
the  sense  of  obligation  and  duty  has  triumphed  by  the  award 
of  the  only  possible  umpire,  viz,  the  will.  We  evidently 
make  a  distinction,  in  all  such  cases,  between  the  cravings 
of  a  man's  appetite  which  necessarily  involve  desire,  and 
the  act  of  volition,  by  which  the  tendency  of  such  desire  is 
counteracted. 

This  illustration  reminds  us  of  an  additional  statement  of 
Dr.  Reid  on  this  subject. — "With  regard  to  our  actions,  he 
remarks,  we  may  desire  what  we  do  not  will,  and  will  what 
we  do  not  desire  ,  nay  what  we  have  a  great  aversion  to.  A 
man  a-thirst  has  a  strong  desire  to  drink,  but,  for  some  par- 
ticular reason,  he  determines  not  to  gratify  his  desire.  A 
judge,  from  a  regard  to  justice  and  the  duty  of  his  office, 
dooms  a  criminal  to  die,  while  from  humanity  or  particular 
affection,  he  desires  that  he  should  live.  A  man  for  health 
may  take  a  nauseous  draught,  for  which  he  has  no  desire, 
but  a  great  aversion.  Desire,  therefore,  even  when  its  ob- 
ject is  some  action  of  our  own,  is  onjy  an  excitement  to»  the 
will,  but  is  not  volition.  The  determination  of  the  mind  may 
be  not  to  do  what  we  desire  to."* 

§.  61.   Of  some  Strictures  on  the  foregoing  remarks  of  Reid. 

We  are  not  ignorant  that  this  very  passage  of  Dr.  Reid 
has  called  forth  some  strictures,  the  object  of  which  is  to 

♦  Essays  on  the  Active  Powers  of  Man,  Essay  II,  Chap.  I. 


92  DISTINCTION    BETWEEN 

show,  that  its  statements  are  in  some  respects  defective.  It 
has  been  contended,  that,  in  the  instances  above  adduced  by 
Dr.  Reid,  the  volition  has  reference  to  the  muscular  motion 
and  to  that  alone.  In  respect  to  the  judge,  who  pronounces 
the  doom  of  his  prisoner,  it  is  maintained  by  the  objector, 
that  the  judicial  announcement  is  the  result  of  volition,  so  far 
and  so  far  only  as  volition  puts  certain  muscles  in  motion  ; 
and  that  all  such  acts  of  volition  are  identical  in  their  nature 
with  desires.  And  a  like  view  is  maintained  to  hold  good  of 
all  similar  cases,viz,  That  no  volition  exists  except  in  respect 
to  the  muscular  action  which  immediately  follows,  and  that 
such  volition  is  not  dijBferent  from  desire.  Upon  views  of 
this  kind,  we  have  two  remarks  to  make. 

In  the  first  place,  if  we  were  to  admit  the  correctness   of 
limiting  the  application  of  volition  to  the  production  of  mere 
muscular  motion,  still  it  would  not   follow,  that  volition  and 
desire  are  identical.     But  on  the  contrary  in  regard  to  mus- 
cular motion,  as  in  all  other  cases,  we  may  confidently  assert, 
that  they  are  entirely  distinct  from  each  other,  although  we 
are  ready  to  admit  they  do  not  stand  in   opposition.      It  is 
undoubtedly  true,  that  we.  are  sometimes  liable  to  confound 
with  the  desires  those  volitions,  which  have  no  higher  office 
than  the  mere  regulation  of  the  muscles,  in   consequence   of 
their  being  in  the  same  direction,and  the  volition  being  in  suc- 
cession to  the  desire, &  both  existing  perhaps  in  a  very  slight 
degree.  Still  we  may  safely  appeal  to  ever}^  one's  conscious- 
ness, whenever  he    bestows  a  suitable    examination   on  the 
subject,  whether  he  is  not  able,  even  in  very  slight  instan- 
ces of  muscular  movement,   to   draw  a  distinction    between 
the  desire  and  the  volition.     The  desire  to  move  the  muscles 
of  the  foot  or  hand  or  throat  may  have  existed  for  minutes  or 
hours,  but  till  the  volition  came  there  was  no  motion  ;    nor 
had  the  desire  the  least  possible  tendency  to  secure  the  mo- 


DESIRES   AND    VOLITIONS.  93 

i 

tion,  except  through  the  medium  of  volition.  A  man  goes 
from  his  house  to  his  counting  room  ;  and  it  is  readily  ad- 
mitted, that  he  puts  forth  various  acts  of  volitioji,  that  he 
wills  to  arise  from  his  chair,  that  he  wills  to  open  the  door  of 
his  house,  to  set  one  foot  before  another,  and  that  all  his 
muscular  movements  are  preceded  by  volitions.  And  we 
may  admit  also,  that  he  had  a  desire  to  put  forth  these  suc- 
cessive acts  ;  but  it  does  not  at  all  follow,  that  the  volitions 
were  identical  with  the  desires,  any  more  than  that  they  were 
identical  with  the  various  sensations  and  perceptions,  which 
existed  at  the  same  time.  On  the  contrary,  in  all  instances 
whatever,  the  distinction  between  the  two  exists,  although 
it  may  be  less  obvious  at  some  times  than  others.  The  de- 
sire, (the  same  as  in  other  analogous  cases  of  a  higher  kind,) 
is  merely  the  forerunner  and  preparative  of  whatever  is  to 
be  done;  the  distinct  act  of  volition  is  necessary  to  the  exe- 
cution of  it. 

§.  52.   Volition  may  exist  in  respect  to  those  complex  acts  xxMch 
the  mind  can  embrace  as  one. 

But  we  remark,  in  the  second  place,  as  we  had  occasion 
to  show  in  the  preceding  chapter,  that  there  may  be  volition 
in  respect  to  combined  action  and  plans  of  action,  as  well 
as  in  respect  to  single  acts.  He,  who  supposes  that  volition 
is  exercised  solely  and  exclusivjely  in  reference  to  the  motion 
of  the  muscles,  must  have  a  very  inadequate  notion  of  the 
sphere,  in  which  this  part  of  the  mind  is  called  to  operate* 
This  view  will  seem  the  more  admissible,  when  we  consider, 
that  we  have  it  in  our  power  to  give  a  mental  unity  to  ac- 
tions, which,  as  they  are  successively  brought  to  their  fulfil- 
ment, are  many,  and  are  distinct  from  each  other.  It  is  pre- 
sumed that  the  existence  of  this  ability  will  not  be  denied. 
Dr.  Brown  himself,  in  whose  writings  the  strictures  an  the 


/ 


04(  DISTINCTION    BETWEEN 

vievs  of  Dr.  Reid  are  found,  acknowledges,  that  we  can 
give  an  unity  in  our  conception  to  things  which  are  com- 
plex. "  In  considering,  (he  remarks,)  the  physical  changes, 
which  come  under  our  view,  it  is  impossible  for  us,  in  many 
cases,  not  to  give  a  sort  of  unity ,  in  our  conception,  to  phe- 
nomena, which  are  in  their  nature  complex.  We  consider 
them,  as  in  some  measure  one  ;  because,  however  complex 
they  may  truly  be,  they^  exhibit  to  us  one  great  general 
character."*  And  we  may  add,  that  we  are  capable  of  giv- 
ing an  unity  to  moral  objects  of  whatever  kind,  as  well  as  to 
physical,  if  there  be  any  possible  relation  of  time  or  place  or 
resemblance  or  effect  or  cause,  which  the  mind  can  detect 
and  employ  as  a  ligament  for  this  purpose.  We  repeat,  that 
this  capability  of "  combining,  by  a  mere  mental  act,  many 
into  one,  of  converting  multiplicity  into  unity,  is  not  less 
true  of  intellectual  and  moral  changes  than  of  physical  ;  and 
in  many  cases  both  are  included. 

A  man,  for  instance,  contemplates  going  a  journey  ;  he 
examines  all  the  circumstances,  which  may  have  a  bearing  on 
his  proposed  expedition  ;  and  combines,  by  the  various  ope- 
rations "of  the  intellect,  the  whole  into  one  view.  .  This 
complex  object  is  addressed,  not  in  its  parts,  but  as  a  whole, 
to  the  sensibilities.  It  excites  the  various  forms  of  desire, 
and  the  feelings  of  obligation  ;  and  these  are  followed  by 
volition.  In  all  cases  of  this  kind  the  mind  is  capable  of 
acting,  and  in  point  of  fact  it  generally  does  act,  in  reference 
to  the  whole  object.  The  volition  may  be  in  accordance  with 
the  desire  or  not  ;  it  may  be  in  accordance  with  the  moral 
feelings,  and  wholly  at  variance  with  the  desires  ;  but  in 
both  alike  the  desires  and  volitions  are  distinct.  And  these 
views  hold  good  not  only  in  the  case  just  now  remarked  upon 
of  the  man,  who  dashes  from  him  the  intoxicating  bowl;  but 
*  Relation  of  Cause  and  Effect,  Part  I,  §.  8,  Pt.  11,  §.  3. 


DESIRES    AND    VOLITIONS.  95 

of  the  judge,  who  is  called,  in  the  discharge  of  his  duties,  to 
pass  sentence  of  death  on  an  accused  person.  He  undouht- 
edly  takes  into  view  the  action  in  its  whole  extent,  in  all  its 
results.  As  it  exists  in  the  view  of  his  intellect,  it  is  one 
action,  though  made  up  of  various  subordinate  parts;  and  the 
question,  placed  distinctly  before  him  and  subject  to  his  own 
dispensation,  is  one  of  life  and  death.  And  we  may  assert 
with  confidence,  the  true  state  of  his  mind  in  ordinary  cases 
is,  that  he  desires  the  accused  person  to  live,  but  ivills  him  to 
die  ;  and  that  the  desire  and  volition  are  not  only  distinct 
from  each  other,but  are  opposed  to  each  other.  The  fact  is, 
there  are  two  conflicting  principles  within  him,  the  desires 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  feelings  of  moral  obligation  on 
the  other.  These  both  are  in  immediate  contact  with  the 
will  ;  that  is  to  say,  have  a  direct  influence  upon  it.  In  act- 
ing in  conformity  with  .the  moral  motive,  he  acts  against  the 
desire  ;  and  an  act  which  is  against  desire,  whether  that  ac- 
tion be  mental  or  bodily,  cannot  with  any  propriety  of  terfns 
be  said  to  be  identical  with  it.     • 

§.  53.  If  the  distinction  in  question  do  not  exist,  thefounda- 
•    tion  of  tjiorals  becomes  unsettled, 

'  There  is  another  and  important  point  of  view,  in  which 
this  subject  may  be  considered. — It  is  a  common,  and  certain- 
ly a  just  opinion,  that  conscience,  as  we  have  already  inti- 
mated, sometimes  controls  our  actions,  iii  distinction  from ' 
desires.  We  npt  unfrequently  hear  it  said  of  this  or  that 
man,  that  he  acts  from  the  dictates  of  conscience  ;  and  with- 
out any  disposition  to  object  to  the  justness  of  the  remark. 
But  if  the  volition  is  always  coincident  with  the  highest  de- 
sire, this  language  is  evidently  founded  on  a  mistake  ;  and 
the  authority  of  conscience  becomes  a  nullity.  The  two 
great  sources  of  human  actions,  viz,  the  moral  sentiments 


V 


06  DISTINCTION    BETWEEN 

and  feelings  of  obligation  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  various 
forms  of  desire  on  the  other,  are,  on  this  theory,  reduced  to 
one.  Now  when  we  consider,  that  not  unfrequently  thfe  de- 
sires,existing  in  the  hearts  of  men,  are  impregnated  with  in- 
ordinate selfishness  or  malignity  and  are  morally  evil,  the 
assertion,  that  there  is,  and  can  be  no  volition,  except  what 
is  identical  with  the  highest  desire,  is  certainly  a  hazardous 
one,  and  seems  to  undermine  all  moral  distinctions. 

These  remarks  are  made  on  the  supposition,  that  we  fully 
admit  the  existence,  of  that  department  of  our  nature,  which 
we  variously  denominate  either  the  moral  sense  or  the  con- 
science.     It  is  presumed,  that  no  one  will  be  disposed  to 
deny  either  the  existence  or  the  practical  utility  of  such  a 
moral  power.     But  if  conscience  is  of  any  value,  it  is  because 
the  feelings  of  obligation  resulting  from  it  furnish  a  motive  to 
volition ,  and  become  at  times  its  antecedent  and  necessary, 
or  rather  its  prerequisite  condition  ;  and  because  the  motive 
thus  furnished  is  different  from  that  presented  by  the  appe- 
tites, propensities,  and  passions.      But  if  volition  is  always 
and  invariably  identical  with  some  form  of  desire,  then  noth- 
ing can  be  more  unmeaning  and  useless  and  delusory,  than 
the  apparatus  of  conscience  and  of  feelings  of  obligation, 
which  so  evidently  exists..  They  furnishjOn  that  supposition, 
a  mere  show  of  authority  without  any  actual  good  results. 
So  that  we  have  great  reason  to  assert,  that  the  doctrine, 
which  makes  volition  always  and  necessarily  identical  with 
the  highest  desire,  tends   to  annihilate  our  moral  nature. 
If  we  are  not  erroneous  in  our  construction  of  it,  it  places 
man,  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  on  the  same  footing  with  brute 
animals.     We  never  condemn  a  brute,  that  yields  to  its  de- 
sires as  guilty  of  a  crime.     And  why  not  ?     Because  it  has 
no  conscience,  no  moral  sense  ;    and  of  course  there  is  no 
basis  of  its  actions  except  in  its  desires  ;    and  therefore  in 


DESIRES    AND    VOLITIONS.  97 

actifig  in  accordance  with  its  desires,  it  acts  in  conformity 
with  its  nature,  and  fulfils  the  destiny  allotted  it.  But  it  is  not 
so  with  man.  He  has  within  him  not  only  desires,  but  feel- 
ings of  moral  obligation  ;  and  if  ever  in  any  assignable  case 
he  wills  and  acts  in  accordance  with  those  moral  feelings  and 
in  opposition  to  his  desires,  then  his  volitions  and  desires 
are  not  the  same.  - 

§.  54.  Instances  in  illustration  of  thp  distinction  in  question. 

We  think  we  might  bring  many  instances  to  illustrate 
the  distinction  under  consideration,  and  which  not  only  illus- 
trate, but  tend  to  prove  its  existence.  The  parental  relation 
will  furnish  to  those  at  least,  who  have  experienced  the 
strength  of  afi'ection  incident  to  it,  an  illustration  of  the  mat- 
ter before  us.  The  tenderly  beloved  child  commits  some 
fault  or  crime  under  such  circumstances  as  to  render  him  in- 
excusable, and  the  father  punishes  him.  ^very  father  knows 
that  the  infliction  of  punishment  in  such  cases  is  attended 
with  a  war  iniiis  own  bosom  ;  the  strong  feeling  of  obliga- 
tion, which  ah  enlightened  conscience  has  laid  the  foundation 
of,  drawing  him  one  way,  and  the  yearnings  of  parental  af- 
fection enticing  him  another  ;  and  it  does  not  appear  that 
any  thing  can  still  this  commotion,  and  secure  the  suprema- 
cy of  his  moral  nature,  but  the  energetic  and  authoritative 
effort  of  the  will. 

Let  us  apply  these  views  to  the  case  of  the  patriarch 
Abraham,  when  he  was  called,  in  the  administration  of  the 
divine  providence,  to  offer  up  his  son  Isaac  amid  the  forests 
of  Mount  Moriah.  Will  any  one  presume  to  say,  that,  when 
the  aged  father  stood  with  his  knife  extended  over  the  barfed 
bosom  of  his  only  son,  there  was  no  contest  within  him,  no 
earnest  and  almost  overpowering  longing  for  his  rescue  ?  Did 

not  his  aftection  kindle  with  tenfold  ardour,  when  his  dar- 
13       , 


98  DISTINCTION     BETWEEN 

ling  boy  asked  him,  with  the  simplicity  of  untaught  and  con- 
fiding childhood,  where  is  the  lamb  for  the  burnt  offering  ? 
While  desire  for  the  child's  safety  existed  at  the  highest 
point  of  intensity,  there  were  other  high  and  sacred  princi- 
ples of  action,  and  in  view  of  them,  the  power  of  volition, 
collecting  all  its  strength,  smote  through  the  torrents  of 
affection,  as  the  rod  of  Moses  divided  the  troubled  waters  of 
the  sea. 

If  any  should  be  disposed  to  object  here,  on  the  ground 
that  Abraham  was  sustained  by  religious  principles,  which 
are  not  given  to  ordinary  men,  at  least  in  an  equal  degree, 
it  might  be  proper  to  reply,  without  conceding  any  special 
weight  to  the  objection,  that  many  similar  instances  can  be 
brought  forward.  They  abound  in  all  parts  of  history. 
When  the  sons  of  Lucius  Junius  Brutus  conspired  against 
the  Roman  republic,  they  were  justly  condemned  to  die.  It 
became  the  duty  of  the  father  to  see  the  punishment  enforc- 
ed. Can  any  one  doubt  that  there  was  a  contest,  "a  tug  of 
war,"  in  the  soul  of  that  noble  Roman  ?  The  historian  in- 
forms us,  that  this  struggle  was  visible  in  his  countenance, 
(eminente  animo  'patrio  inter  puhlicce  pcRnce  ministerium,)  as  he 
stood  at  the  dreadful  scene  of  the  execution .  But  if  desire 
and  volition  are  the  same  thing,  where  was  the  foundation 
for  such  inward  contest  I  If  the  desire  was  coincident  with 
the  volition,  if  the  latter  was  lost  and  absorbed  in  the  for- 
mer, there  must  have  been  a  calm  within  and  without ;  there 
could  not  possibly  have  been  an  agitation,  dissidence,  and 
rending  asunder  of  the  interiournature. 

§.  55.  Mditional  instances  in  illustration  and  proof . 

If  it  were  thought  necessary,  we  could  easily  bring  for- 
ward, from  the  history  of  the  same  remarkable  people,  even 
stronger  and  more  decisive   instances,  than   that   touching 


DESIRES    AND    VOLITIONS.  99 

event  which  has  just  been  adduced.  One  or  two,  at  least, 
may  repay  a  moment's  attention.  During  the  fatal  period  of 
the  Roman  decemvirship,  certain  transactions  took  place, 
which,  while  they  agitated  the  whole  city  of  Rome  with 
sentiments  of  grief  and  indignation,  infused  the  deepest 
horror  and  despair  into  the  heart  of  a  worthy  father.  His 
afFection&  were  bound  up  in  a  beloved  daughter,  who  was 
insidiously  assailed  by  one  of  the  most  powerful  magistrates, 
in  a  manner  which  left  no  hope  of  deliverance.  In  this  situ- 
ation, seeing  his  daughter  exposed  to  unavoidable  and  un- 
speakable infamy,  he  seized  the  knife  of  a  butcher,  and 
plunged  it  into  her  bosom.  And  is  it  possible  for  us  to  say, 
with  any  propriety  of  language,  that  Virginus  desired  the 
death  orhis  daughter  }  The  whole  history  of  the  transaction 
shows,  that  he  doated  upon  her  with  all  the  depth  and  sac- 
redness  of  parental  love.  The  assertion,. therefore,  is  in- 
credible. He  could  not  have  desired  it  ;  human  nature  spurns 
the  thought  as  an  impossibility  ;  and  yet  he  too  fatally  W/erf 
it.  He  considered  her  life  as  but  dust  in  the  balance  in 
comparison  with  the  loathsome  degradation,  which  was  so 
cruelly  threatened  by  one  whom  he  had  no  power  to  resist  ; 
and  in  putting  her  to  death  he  willed  and  executed  what  at 
the  same  time  he  lamented  and  abhorred  as  in  itself  a  most 
terrible  and  overwhelming  calamity. 

§.  56.    The  subject  further  illustrated  by  (he  voluntary  death 
of  the  Saguntines. 

And  when  we  read  a  little  further  in  the  same  eloquent 
historian,  who  has  given  us  the  narrative  of  Brutus  and  of 
Virginius,  we  come  to  the  deeply  interesting  story  of  the 
Iberus  and  Saguntum.  Every  thing  depended  upon  one 
short  sentence.  ^^Pass  not  the  Iberus  !"  The  Romans  in- 
sisted upon  this  as  a  boundary,  which  Carthage   should  not 


100  DISTINCTION     BETWEEN 

pass.  Nevertheless  the  Carthaginian  commander  had  his 
plans*  of  aggrandizement  ;  the  Iberus  proved  but  a  feeble 
barrier  ;  and  Saguntum  was  fiercely  attacked.  After  a  des-p 
perate  conflict,  the  city  was  taken,  and  many  of  the  inhabi- 
tants, rather  than  fall  into  the  hands  of  their  enemy,  fired 
their  houses  over  their  own  heads,  and  with  their  wives  and 
children  perished  in  the  flames.* 

But  can  we  with  propriety  say,  that  these  intolerable 
sufferings,  the  burning  of  their  own  bodies,  and  the  burning 
of  their  children  and  dearest  friends  in  the  same  horrid  con- 
flagration, was  a  matter  of  desire  ?  It  was  far  from  this.  They 
desired  and  loved  life,  and  revolted  at  suffering,  as  much  as 
other  men.  But  they  had  formed  the  resolution  to  live 
free  or  die  ;  and  had  further  resolved  to  undergo  all  fhe  evils 
incident  to  that  resolution,  however  intense,  however  dread- 
ful in  the  experience.  They  could  not  rise  to  glory  but  on 
flames  of  fire,  but  the  greatness  of  the  consummation  re- 
conciled them  to  the  dreadful  nature  of  the  terras.  Their  de- 
sires would  have  given  them  life  an'd  enjoyment  at  least,  and 
perhaps  even  on  the  condition  of  slavery  ;  but  the  ascenden- 
cy of  the  will,  which  was  secured  by  motives  -higher  than 
any  considerations  of  mere  personal  and  immediate  good, 
gave  them  burnings,  liberty,  and  renown. 

And  these  are  not  insulated  and  solitary  instances.  They 
are  to  be  found  in  all  ages  and  climes  and  nations,  and 
among  all  classes  of  men.  In  the  republic  of  Rome,  there 
was  probably  not  a  day  during  five  hundred  years,  when 
individuals  could  not  have  been  found,  who  were  willing, 
like  Regulus  and  the  celebrated  Decii,  to  endure  every 'form 
of  suffering  even  to  death  itself  for  their  honour  and  the 
good  of  their  country.  And  only  fitting  circumstances  are 
wanting  in  order  to  show,  that  it  is  the  same  in  every  other 
country,  and  under  every  form  of  government.     Human  na- 

*Livy,  Lib.  xxi,  §.13. 


DESIRES    AND    VOLITIONS.  iQl 

ture  is  every  where  the  same,  hoth  for  good  and  evil.  If  any 
of  its  elements  appear  less  decidedly  in  one  country  than  in 
another,  it  is  not  because  they  are  withheld  in  their  origin, 
but  are  suppressed  in  their  growth.  But  poor,  indeed,  would 
human  nature  be,  neither  honoured  nor  honourable  in  any  sit- 
uation, if  there  were  not  in  men  some  principles  of  action, 
not  only  distinct  from  the  desires,  but  able  on  suitable  occa.- 
sions  to  bring  them  into  subjection.  Let  it  be  remembered, 
that  there  is  no  foundation  or  characteristic  of  true  greatness 
Separable  from  a  disposition  to  give  up  all  private  and  per- 
sonal good  in  favour  of  the  nobler  objects  of  the  general  and 
moral  good,  whenever  private  and  public  good  come  de- 
cidedly in  conflict  ;  and  evidently  this  is  a  condition,  which 
would  seldom  or  rather  never  be  realized,  if  the  will  could 
never  act  and  decide  in  opposition  to  the  desires. 

§.  5.7.   Of  the  chastisements  of  the  Supreme  Being  inflicted  en 
those  he  loves. . 

There  is  one  consideration  more. — May  we  not  tiraw 
light  down  upon  this  subject  from  an  observation  of  the 
course  which  our  adorable  Creator  takes  in  his  dealings  with 
his  creatures  ?  Throughout  the  Holy  Scriptures  we  find 
expressions,  "v^hich  indicate  the  strongest  love  towards  them, 
when,  at  the  same  time,  he  is  compelled  to  inflict  his  chastise- 
ments. The  Old  Testament  is  full  of  expressions  of  kind- 
ness and  tenderness  towards  his. ancient  people.  ""  He  nour- 
ished and  brought  them  up  as  children  ;"  "he  led  them  about, 
instructed  them,  and  kept  them  as  the  apple  of  his  eye."  In 
their  rebellions  he  calls  after  them  with  unspeakable  affec- 
tion. "  How  shall  I  gi*re  thee  up,  Ephraim  ?  How  shall  I 
deliver  thee,  Israel  ?  How  shall  I  make  thee  as  Admah  ? 
How  shall  I  sef  thee  as  Z.eboim  ?  Mine  heart  is  turned 
within  me,  my  repentings  are  kindled  tpgether  !"     But,  al- 


103  DISTINCTION     BETWEEN 

though  he  loved  them  with  all  the  intensity  of  a  father's  af- 
fection, still  the  eternal  principles  of  his  nature  compelled 
him  to  exercise  his  benevolence  in  subordination  to  the  sen- 
timents of  justice.  When  his  people  rebelled,  and  did.  not 
listen  to  his  warnings,  he  gave  them  over  to  dreadful  pun- 
ishments. He  poured  upon  Israel  the  fury  of  his  anger, 
the  strength  of  battle,  and  set  him  on  fire  round  about.  But, 
although  he  willed  the  wasting  and  desolation  and  sufferings 
of  his  people,  (for  he  says,  "who  gave  Jacob  for  a  spoil,  and 
Israel  to  the  robbers  ?  Did  not  the  Lord  ?")  we  do  not  feel* 
at  liberty  to  say,  that  he  desired  it,  for  every  thing  in  the 
Old  Testament  shows,  that   it  greatly  grieved  him. 

And  who  does  not  recollect  the  affecting  language,'  of 
the  Saviour, uttered  over  the  Holy  City  ?  "Oh  Jerusalem,  Je- 
rusalem, thou  that  killest  the  prophets,  and  stonest  them 
which  are  sent  unto  thee!"  And  yet  soon  afterwards  the 
sign  of  the  Son  of  man  appeared  in  heaven  ;  the  sun  and  the 
moon  were  darkened  ;'  the  earth  mourned  ;  there  was  fam- 
ine, pestilence,  and  earthquake  ;  of  the  beloved  and  beautiful 
Temple  not  one  stone  was  left  upon  another  ;  and  all  Jeru- 
salem, that  delight  of  the  whole  earth,  was  bathed,  in  blood 
and  wrapped  in  fire. — Not  because  the  Saviour  had  ceased 
to  love  it,  and  to  desire  its  good,  but  because  'the  measure 
of  its  iniquity  was  full,  and  the  dictates  of  eternal  justice 
compelled  him  to  will  and  to  inflict  a  punishment,  which  a 
being  so  infinitely  benevolent  could  never,  have  desired  to 
see. — And  does  he  not  at  this  moment  truly  desire  the  re- 
turn and  salvation  of  every  sinner  ?  Does  he  not  earnestly 
entreat  them  ?  And  when  he  shall  inflict  on  these  same  sin- 
ners unutterable  chastisements  on  account  of  their  obduracy, 
will  it  be  because  he  ceases  to  love,  or  because  immutable 
jirstice  requires  it  ? 

On  this  subject  we    cannot  refrain  from  adding  in  un- 


DESIRES    AND    VOLITIONS.  103 

feigned  sincerity,  that  sound  philosophy  requires  the  Bible 
to  be  understood  as  it  stands,  in  its  obvious  import,  and  as 
it  would  be  interpreted  by  an  unlettered  reader.  In  the 
great  outlines  of  his  mental  constitution,  it  is  strictly  and 
emphatically  true,as  Scripture  informs  us,  that  man  is  formed 
in  the  image  of  his  Maker.  And  it  is  as  true  of  God  as  of 
man,  that  there  are  elements  in  his  nature,  which  lead  him 
to  determine  or  will  that,  which  He  (Joes  not  desire.  It  nei- 
ther is  nor  can  be  true  of  God,  that  He  ever  desires,  the 
infliction  of  punishment,  though  the  obduracy  of  transgres- 
sors often  leads  him  to  will  it.  To  desire  the  infliction  of 
misery  in  any  way  whatever,  in  the  strict  and  original  sense 
of  the  word  desire,  is  the  characteristic  of  an  evil  and  not  of  a 
.  good  being.  It  is  the  height  of  impiety  to  attempt  to  per- 
vert the  often  repeated  and  earnest  expressions  of  the  Su- 
preme Being  on  this  subject.  "As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord  God, 
I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked,  but  that  the 
wicked  turn  from  his  ways  and  live." 

§.58.   Objected  that  these'views  lead  to  contradictions. 

If  it  were  deemed  of  consequence  enough,  we  might  stop 
here  to  consider  some  objections  chiefly  of  a  verbal  kind,  of 
which  it  will  perTiaps  answer  all  purpose  to  notice  one,that 
may  serve  as  a  specimen  of  others.  It  being  assumed,  that 
every  act  of  desire  implies  a  preference  or  choice,  and  it 
being  further  said  in  way  of  definitian,  that  volition  is  the 
act  of  choosing,  we  are  then  confronted  with  the  obvious 
contradiction,  that,  if  the  volition  is  ever  actually  opposed 
*to  the  desire,  we  choose  what  we  do  not  choose,  &e.  This 
objection,  perhaps  a  plausible  one  in  the  minds  of  some,  will 
be  found  on  examination  to  resolve  itself  into  a  verbal  fal- 
lacy, and  naturally  vanishes  as  soon  as  that  fallacy  is  de- 
tected. 


104  DISTINCTION    BETWEEN      - 

It  is  well  known,  that  owing  to  the  imperfection  of  lan- 
guage we  not  unfrequently  apply  the  same  terms  to  things, 
which,  both  in  their  nature  and  relations,  are  different  from 
each  other.  Now*  it  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  the  common 
usage  of  language  authorizes  us  to  apply  the  terms  choice 
and  choosing  indiscriminately  to  either  the  desire  or  the  vo- 
lition ;  but  it  does  not  follow,  and  is  not  true,  that  we  apply 
them  to  these  different  parts  of  our  nature  in  precisely  the 
samp  sense.  We  sometimes  use  the  word  choice,  when  it 
obviously  implies  and  expresses  desire  ;  and  the  desire  in 
this  case  differs  from  desire  in  other  cases,  not  in  its  nature, 
but  only  in  the  circumstance,  that  it  is  a  desire,  which  pre- 
dominates over  other  desires  existing  in  reference  to  other 
conflicting  objects  brought  before  the  mind  at  t|ie  same 
time.  That  is  to  say,  when  the  word  choice  implies  desire 
at  all,  it  has  reference  to  a  number  of  desirable  objects 
brought  before  the  mind  at  once,  and  implies  and  expresses 
the  ascendant  or  predominant  desire.  It  is  that  particular 
desire,  in  distinction  from  others,  which  we  denominate  our 
choice. 

At  other  times  we  use  the  term  choice  or  choosing  in 
application  to  the  will  ;  but  when  we  do  so  use  it,  we  are  to 
regard  it,  as  modified  by  the  nature  of  the'  subject,  to  which 
it  is  applied.  The  choice  of  the  w^ill  is  the  same  as  the  de- 
cision of  the  will  ;  and  the  decision  of  the  will  is  the  same 
as  the  act  of  the  will.  The  word  in  question  then,  when  it 
is  applied  to  that  power,  expresses  the  mere  act  of  the  will, 
and  nothing  more,  with  the  exception,  as  in  the  other  case, 
that  more  than  one  object  of  volition  was  present  in  the' 
view  of  the  mind,  before  the  putting  forth  of  the  voluntary 
act.  In  fact,  it  is  the  circumstance,  that  two  or  more  objects 
are  present,  which  suggests  the  use  of  the  word  choice  or 
choosing  in  both  case^  ;  but  wc  are  not  at  all  to  suppose,  that 


DESIRES    AND    VOLITIONS.  IQS 

the  use  of  the  word  implies  or  involves  a  change  in  the  na- 
ture, but  only  in  the  condition  or  circumstances  of  the  men- 
tal act.  The  acts  are  entirely  different  in  their  nature,  al- 
though under  certain  circumstances  the  same  name  is  applied 
to  them.  When  they  are  both  called  choice  or  acts  of  choice, 
they  are  indeed  verbally,  but  not  really  identical.  If  these 
views  are  correct,  (and  we  believe  they  be,)  then  the  con- 
tradiction spoken  of,  whenever  it  takes  place,  is  not  a  real, 
but  merely  a  verbal  one.  If  we  ever  choose  against  choos- 
ing, it  will  be  found  to  be  merely  that  choice,  which  is  voli- 
tion, placed  in  opposition  to  that  choice,  which  is  desire  ;  a 
state  of  things,  which,  as  we  have  already  seen,  not  unfre- 
quently  exists,  and  in  which  there  is  no  incompatibility. 

§.  58.   Opinions  of  Mr.  Locke  and  others  on  this  subject* 

We  shall  close  this  chapter  with  remarking,  that  the  dis- 
tinction in  question  is  more  or  less  clearly  recognized  and 
sustained  by  a  considerable  number  of  writers,  whose  opin- 
ions, as  they  were  given  on  mature  deliberation,  are  entitled 
to  great  weight,  particularly  Sir  James  M'Intosh,  Dr.  Reid, 
Dr.  Good,  and  Mr.  Stewart.  At  an  earlier  period  Mr. 
Locke  also  took  the  same  ground  in  the  following  passage, 
which  we  commend  to  the  careful  consideration  of  the  reader. 
— '^  I  find  the  will  often  confounded  with  several  of  the  affec- 
tions, especially  desire,  and  one  put  for  the  other  ;  and  that 
by  men  who  would  not  willingly  be  thought  not  to  have  had 
very  distinct  notions  of  things,  and  not  to  have  writ  very 
dearly  about  them.  This,  I  imagine,  has  been  no  small  oc- 
casion of  obscurity  and  mistake  in  this  matter  ;  and  there- 
fore is,  as  much  as  may  be,  to  be  avoided.  For  he,  that  shall 
turn  his  thoughts  inwards  upon  what  passes  in  his  mind 
when  he  wills,  shall  see  that  the  will  or  power  of  volition  is 
conversant  about  nothing  but  that  particular  determination 
14 


lO"}  DESIRES    AND    VOLITIONS. 

of  the  mind,  av hereby  barely  by  a  thought  the  mind  endeav- 
ours to  give  rise,  continuation,  or  stop,  to  any  action  which 
it  takes  to  be  in  its  power.  This,  well  considered,  plainly 
shows  that  the  will  is'  perfectly  distinguished  from  desire  ; 
which  in  the  very  same  action  may  have  a  quite  contrary 
tendency  from  that  which  our  will  sets  us  upon.  A  mah, 
whom  I  cannot  deny,  may  oblige  me  to  use  persuasions 
to  another,  which,  at  the  same  time  I  am  speaking,  I  may 
wish  may  not  prevail  on  him.  In  this  case,  it  is  plain  the 
will  and  desire  run  counter.  I  will  the  action  that  tends 
one  way,  whilst  my  desire  tends  another,  and  that  the  direct 
contrary  way.  A  man  who  by  a  violent  fit  of  the  gout  in 
his  limbs  finds  a  doziness  in  his  head,  or  a  want  of  appetite 
in  his  stomach  removed,  desires  to  be  eased  too  of  the  pain 
of  his  feet  or  hands  (for  wherever  there  is  pain  there  is  a  de- 
sire to  be  rid  of  it)  though  yet,  whilst  he  apprehends  that 
the  removal  of  the  pain  may  translate  the  notions  humour  to 
a  more  vital  part,  his  will  is  never  determined  to  any  one 
action  that  may  serve  to  remove  this  pain.  Whence  it  is  ev- 
ident that  desiring  and  willing  are  two  distinct  acts  of  the 
mind  ;  and  consequently  that  the  will,  which  is  but  the  pow- 
er of  volition,  is  much  more  distinct  from  desire."* 

*E9say  concerning  Human  Understanding,  Bk.  II,  Chap.  21st 


PART   SECOND. 


LAWS   OF   THE  WILL. 


1^ 


CHAPTER  FIRST 


UNIVERSALITY  OF  LAW. 


§.59.  Thejpreceding  chapters  preparatory  to  what  follows. 

The  remarks,  that  have  been  made  in  the  Part  First  of 
this  Work,  relate  to  the, general  nature  of  the  will.  It  seem- 
ecl  important  to  take  this'  general  view.  It  was  obviously 
necessary,  before  entering  into  the  examination  of  the  long 
contested  topics  that  aire  to  follow,  to  settle  the  subject  of 
the  great  outlines  of  the  mind  in  its  departments  of  the  in- 
tellectual,, SENTIENT,  and  VOLUNTARY.  And  it  seemed 
equally  desirable,  when  we*consider  the  mistakes  that  have 
prevailed  upon  that  point,  not  only  to  assert  and  maintain 
the  distinction  existing  between  desire  and  volition,  but  to 
answer  such  objections  as  possessed  any  degree  of  plausibil- 
ity. Nor  was  this  enough.  It  was  further  necessary  to 
make  some  inquiry  into  those  things,  w^hich  not  merely  dis- 
tinguish the  will  from  the  other  mental  susceptibilities,  but 
which  are  especially  characteristic  of  it,  and  which  contrib- 
ute to  constitute   its   essential   and  distinctive   nature .     In , 


i-' 


110  UNIVERSALITY    OF   LAW. 

looking  back  upon  what  has  been  brought  forward,  we  in- 
dulge the  hope,  perhaps  however  without  sufficient  founda- 
tion, that  some  doubta  have  been  cleared  up,  and  some  prin- 
ciples satisfactorily  established.  The  remarks  thus  necessa- 
rily made  may  indeed  appear  to  have  been  protracted  to  an 
inordinate  length  ;  and  we  can  only  say  in  reply,  if  such  is 
thought  to^be  the  case,  that  they  were  rendered  as  concise 
as  seemed  consistent  with  any  adequate  notice  of  the  num- 
erous topics,  that  have  come  under  review . 

And  it  seems  to  come  in  place  to  add  here,  that,  in  every 
thing  which  has  been  said,  there  has  been  an  object.  Every 
part  of  this  Treatise  will  be  found  to  be  more  or  less  connec- 
ted with  other  parts  ;  and  perhaps  more  closely  than  would 
at  first  seem  probable.  And  accordingly  the  doctrines  and 
principles,  which  have  beeil  brought  forward  and  more  or 
less  elucidated  and  established,  are  introductory  to  three 
distinct  series  of  views  of  great  interest  in  fhemselves,  as 
well  as  of  great  practical  importance,  having  relation  respec- 
tively to  the  Laws,  the  Freedom,  and  the  Power  of  the  Will. 
These  leading  topics  will  be  successiTely  considered. 

§.  60.   Of  the  importance  of  the  topics  now  entered  upon. 

Iji  examining  the  matters  of  inquiry  which  are  to  follow, 
particularly  the  Laws  and  the  Freedom  of  the  will,  we  pre- 
sume to  say,  that  we  have  a  claftn  on  the  strict  and  candid 
attention  of  the  reader.  While  few  questions  present  them- 
selves to  one's  notice  of  greater  interest  than  these,  a  regard 
to  historical  truth  requires  it  to  be  added,  that  on  few  has 
there  been  a  greater  difference  of  opinion.  These  inquiries, 
moreover,  which  lie  so  closely  at  the  root  of  human  accounta- 
'  bility,  are  as  important  as  they  are  interesting,  not  only  in  a 
speculative  point  of  view  and  as  presenting  complicated  and 
difficult  problems  for  solution,  but  also  on  account   of  their 


i 


UNIVERSALITY    OF    LAW.  •  m 

practical  results.  If  a  man,  for  instance,  adopts  the  opinion, 
that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  freedom  of  the  will,  and  that 
men  are  the  subjects  of  an  irresistible  fatality,  it  will  gener- 
ally follow,  that  his  practice  will  be  correspondent  to  such 
a  belief.  Placing  an  erroneous  interpretation  on  the  words 
of  Solomon,  that ''  time  and  chance  happen  to  all  men,"  such 
persons  throw  themselves  upon  the  wave  of  their  destiny, 
and  are  floated  onward  with  an  utter  disregard  of  the  issue, 
whether  it  be  good  or  evil,  shameful  or  glorious.  No  mat- 
ter what  takes  place,  say  they  ;  it  is  all  from  a  higher  pow- 
er ;  and  it  would  be  wholly  ineffectual  and  presumptuous  in 
mere  insects  to  prescribe  plans  for  the  Deity.  The  greatest 
circumspection,  the  most  arduous  labours,  the  most  invinci- 
ble determination  will  effect  nothing  against  the  allotted  and 
predestined  course  of  events.  Philosophers  may  speculate, 
and  political  cabinets  may  lay  their  plans,  but  after  all  the 
fate  of  Europe  may  depend,  as  it  has  once  depended,  upon  a 
dispute  about  a  pair  of  gloves,  or  some  other  trivial  circum- 
stance, which  happens  to  form  a  link  in  the  unalterable  chain 
of  destiny.* 

On  the  other  hand,  if  a  person  fully  believes,  that  all 
things  are  in  his  own  power,  in  the  sense  of  excluding  a 
wise  and  efficient  superintendency,  it  leads  to  a  presumptu- 
ous self-confidence  altogether  unsuitable  and  dangerous. 
Puffed  up  with  an  unwarrantable  self-conceit,  he  does  not 
feel  the  need  of  asking  aid  from  on  high  ;  he  does  not  con- 
form his  conduct  to  the  indications  of  "divine  Providence  ; 
but  lays  his  plans,  and  attempts  their  execution  wholly  in 
his  own  strength. 

These  respective  systems,  when  adopted  to  the  exclusion 
of  other  views  which  might  control  and  modify  them,  may 

*  See  the  Prince  of  Machiavel,  Chap.  25th,  and.Examen  du  Prince. 


112  'UNIVERSALITY    OF   LAW. 

justly  be  pronounced  false  and  dangerous  ;  as  inconsistent 
with  sound  philosophy  as  they  are  with  private  duty  and 
the  general  good  ;  although  it  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  in 
all  ages  of  the  world  they  have  been  made  the  governing 
principle  of  multitudes.  We  are  authorized,  therefore,  in 
saying  that  the  particular  subjects,  on  which  we  now  propose 
to  enter,  are  very  important  in  a  practical  point  of  view.  It 
will  be  our  desire  to  examine  them  with  that  care  and  can- 
dour, which  their  practical  importance  demands  ;  and  with- 
out any  undue  expression  of  confidence,  we  would  indulge 
the  hope  of  placing  them  in  a  light  at  once  consistent  with 
the  claims  of  God,  and  the  responsibilities  of  man. 

§.  61 .    The  inquiry y  whether  the  will  has  its  laws,  preliminary 
to  that  of  its  freedom. 

In  order  to  approximate  the  true  notion  of  the  Freedom 
of  the  WILL,  an  inquiry  wliich  will  receive  particular  attention 
in  its  place,  it  seems  proper  to  attempt  the  settlement  of  a 
preliminary  question,  viz,  whether  the  will  is  subject  to  laws. 
If  it  be  true,  as  we  shall  introduce  some  considerations  to 
show,  that  the  will  has  its  laws,  then  the  freedom  of  the 
will,  whatever  may  be  its  nature,  must  accommodate  itself 
to  this  preliminary  fact.  We  will  assume  here,  that  the  will 
is  free  ;  we  have  no  disposition  to  dispute  the  correctness  of 
that  view  ;  undoubtedly  its  frefedom  is  susceptible  of  ample 
demonstration  ;  but  if  there  be  other  mental  facts  equally 
demonstrable,  then  it  follows  that  the  freedom  of  the  will 
must  exist  in  accommodation  to  such  other  facts,  and  can  be 
such  a  freedom  and  such  only  as  is  consistent  with  them. 
This,  it  would  seem,  is  a  very  obvious  view  ;  and  hence  it 
is  exceedingly  important,  that  this  point  should  be  settled 
first.  It  will  accordingly  now  be  our  object  to  propose 
certain  considerations  to  show,  that  the  will  has  its  laws. 


UNIVERSALITY   OF  LAW.  123 

§.62.  Every  thing  throughout  nature  has  its  laws. 

In  entering  upon  the  question,  whether  the  will  has   its 
Jaws,  may  we  not  reason,  in  the  first  place,  from  the  general 
analogy  of  nature  ?  If  the  universe  is  every   where   legibly 
inscribed  and  written  over  with  the   great  truth,  that  all 
things  are  subject  to  law,  are  we  not  furnished  with  a  strong 
presumption,  that  we  shall  not  discover  an  exception  in  any 
pai*t  of  man's  mental  nature  ? — As  to   the   alledged  fact,  on 
which  we  base  this  presumption,  there  can  be  no  doubt  of 
it.     Let  us  look  in  the   first  place^at  material  things.    The 
parts  of   the  earth  are   kept  in  their  relative  position  by 
the  operation  of  some   fixed    law  ;    the  various  immense 
bodies,  composing  the  system  to  which  the   earth  belongs, 
are  made  to  revolve  in  obedience  to  some  unalterable  princi- 
ple ;  there  is  not  even  a  plant  or  a  stone  or  a  falling  leaf  or 
a  grain  of  sand,  which  can  claim  an  exemption  from  regula- 
tion and  control.     And  what  is  true  in  these  few   instances, 
is  true  in  all.     No  certain  and  undoubted  exception  can  be ' 
found.     And  this   great  truth  holds   good  also  of  things, 
which  have  life  and  intelligence.     Objects  of  a  spiritual  or 
mental  nature,  (if  not  in  precisely  the  same   sense  in  which 
the  assertion  is  applicable  to  matter,  yet  in  some  true  and 
important  meaning  of  the  expressions,)  have  their  appropriate 
and  determinate  principles  of  being  and  action.  There  may, 
indeed,  be  some  things,  which  are  as   yet  unexplainable  by 
man  ;  there  may  be  some  objects  of  knowledge,  to  the  full 
understanding  of  whose  nature  limited  human  reason  cannot 
as  yet  reach  ;  but  still  the  vast  majority  of  objects,  coming 
within  the  ordinary  range  of  our  inspection,  obviously  tend 
to  found  and  to  foster  the  general  conviction,  that  there  are 
laws,  wherever   there  are  existences,  whatever  the  kind  or 
nature  of  the  existence.      There  is,   therefore,  undoubted 
15 


114  UNIVERSALITY    OF    LAW. 

truth  in  the  remark  of  Montesquieu,  with  which  he  intro- 
duces his  great  work  on  the  Spirit  of  Laws,  where  he  says, 
after  some  suggestions,  on  the  meaning  of  the  term,  "  all  be- 
ings have  their  laws,  the  Deity  his  laws,  the  material  world 
its  laws,  the  intelligences  superior  to  man  their  laws,  the 
beasts  their  laws,  man  his  laws."  ^ 

§.63.  Reference  to  remarks  of  Cicero  on  the  universality  of  law. 

The  mention  of  Montesquieu,  a  name  equally  dear  to^let- 
ters  and  liberty,  naturally  suggests  the  recollection  of  some 
men  of  a  kindred  genius.  The  idea  of  the  universality  of  law 
has  ever  been  familiar  to  minds,  that  were  particularly  distin- 
guished for  expansiveness  of  thought,  and  for  philosophical 
sagacity.  They  seem  to  have  seized  upon  this  great  truth 
intuitively  ;  not  by  the  slow  deductions  of  reasoning,  but 
by  a  sort  of  instinct  of  intellect.  The  illustrious  orator 
of  Rome  among  others  asserts  the  existence  of  a  law, 
which  has  its  foundation  in  nature,  and  which  is  universal, 
uniform,  and  eternal.  He  declares  God  to  be  the  author  of 
it  ;  and  adds,  that  no  man  can  exempt  himself  from  its  con- 
trol, without  fleeing  from  himself,  and  without  putting  off 
and  alienating  his  own  nature.  It  is  of  this  law  and  in  con- 
nection with  these  statements,  that  he  employs  those  celebra- 
ted expressions,  "nee  erit  alia  lex  Romse, alia  Athenis,  alia 
nunc,  alia  posthac,  sed  et  oranes  gentes  et  omni  tempore  una 
lex  etsempiterna  et  immortalis  continebit,unusque  erit  commu- 
nis quasi  magister  et  imperator  omnium  Deus."*  No  person, 
who  examines  the  whole  of  this  remarkable  passage  with 
care,  will  fail  to  perceive,  that  its  author  had  in  his  concep- 
tions the  idea  of  a  great  central  Power,  possessed  of  perfect 
wisdom  and  justice,  from  whom  emanates  a  paramount  and 
controlling  influence,  which  is  binding  upon  nations  as  well 

♦Cicero  De  Republica,  Lib.  III. 


UNIVERSALITY    OF   LAW.  1  ]^ 

as  individuals,  which  extends  to  all  parts  of  his  dominions, 
making  one  of  many,  and  harmonizing  them  all  by  requiring 
them  to  act  in  subjection  to  himself. 

§.64.  Reference  to  remarks  of  Hooker  on  the  universality  of  law. 

We  cannot  forbear  introducing  here,  as  in  accordance  with 
the  sentiments  of  this  chapter,  the  memorable  expressions  of 
Hooker,  although  at  the  risk  of  repeating  what  may  already 
be  familiar.  *'Of  law,  no  less  can  be  said,  than  that  her  seat 
is  the  bosom  of  God,  her  voice  the  harmoily  of  the  world  ; 
all  things  in  heaven  and  earth  do  her  homage,  the  very  least 
as  feeling  her  care,  the  greatest  as  not  exempted  from  her 
power;  both  angels  and  men,  and  creatures  of  what  condition 
soever,  though  each  in  different  spheres  and  manner,  yet  all 
with  uniform  consent  admiring  her  as  the  mother  of  their 
peace  and  joy."^ 

We  cannot  agree  with  those,  who  are  disposed  to  set 
dowji  this  sublime  passage,  as  a  species  of  rhetorical  exag- 
geration, an  instance  of  sounding  language  rather  than  well 
adjusted  thought ;  but  would  rather  regard  it  as  the  expression 
of  a  reality,  uttered  on  the  most  sober  consideration;  a  reality 
perhaps  not  perfectly  visible  and  obvious  to  minds  of  little 
expansion,  but  of  which  undoubtedly  the  learned  and  eloquent 
writer  had  a  clear  and  impressive  perception.  The  great  idea, 
which  pervades  the  passage,  is  identical  with  that  of  Cicero; 
and  is  simply  this,  that  law  originates  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Deity  and  is  co-substantial  with  his  nature  ;  and  going  forth 
.from  that  primitive  and  prolific  centre  in  every  possible  direc- 
tion like  rays  from  the  sun,  it  embraces  and  harmonizes  all 
things, whether  intelligent  or  unintelligent.  And  how  full  of 
grandeur  and  of  consolation  is  the  thought  !  If  we  could  sup- 
pose, that  even  a  single  unintelligent  atom  had  broken  loose 

*  Hooker's  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  Bk.  I, 


116  UNIVERSALITY    OF    LAW. 

from  the  infinite  ramifications  of  the  great  principle  of 
unity,  which  is  only  another  name  for  that  law  which  binds 
one  existence  to  another  and  both  to  a  third  and  all  to 
the  great  central  ajid  superintendent  Power;  it  would  not 
fail  to  fill  us  with  misgivings  and  anguish.  The  doctrine  of 
the  universality  of  law,  which  is  the  same  as  the  universality 
of  power  under  the  guidance  of  fixed  principles,  recom- 
mends itself  to  the  heart  as  well  as  the  understanding,  and 
dispenses  happiness,  while  it  controls  conviction.  Is  any 
one  prepared  to  say,  that  he  is  not  rendered  happy  in  the 
recollection,  that  God  is  around  us  and  in  us  ?  Is  it  not  a 
source  of  consolation,that  his  paternal  eye  rests  forever  upon 
our  path;  that  he  knoweth  our  lying  down  and  rising  up,  our 
going  out  and  coming  in  ?  And  that  while  he  superintends 
the  minutest  actions  and  events  pertaining  to  ourselves,  He 
extends  abroad,  amid  the  numberless  varieties  of  existence, 
the  watchfulness  of  his  pervading  control, 

*'  And  fills,  and  bounds,  connects  and  equals  all  ?"  '  • 

§.  65.    The  universality  of  law  implied  in  the  belief  of  a 
Divine  existence. 

The  idea  of  a  God  necessarily  embraces  and  implies  the 
notion  of  the  universality  of  law .  Many  of  those  nations,  that 
have  not  been  favoured  with  the  light  of  Revelation,  have 
maintained  the  doctrine  of  a  Supreme  Power.  The  human 
mind  is  so  constituted,  and  is  located  under  such  a  variety 
of  influences  favourable  to  such  a  result,  that  the  idea  of  a 
God,  though  sometimes  wholly  obstructed  by  peculiarly  un- 
toward circumstances,  naturally  developes  itself  with  a  great- 
er or  less  degree  of  strength.  The  most  savage  natio'ns,  if  it 
be  too  true  that  they  are  apt  to  forget  Him  in  their  prosperi- 
ty, seek  to  propitiate  Him  in  the  day  of  sorrow.  They  gener- 
ally 'lave  a  conviction,  indistinct  indeed,  but  not  the  less  real, 


.     LIB 

or  TTIE 

UNIVERSALITY    OF    LAW.       (( XJ  U  JiTtE  E  S  I  T  Y 

that  a  Deity  is  present,  that  there  is  some  possible^m^^»fe^'0'^\^ 
communication  between  Him  and  men,  that  the  virtuoq^^nj- 
the  objects  of  his  favour  and  the  vicious  of  his'  displeasure  ; 
^^ prose  quisque,  Deos  tandem  esse,  etnon  negligere  humana^  fre^ 
munt.^^*  But  vrith  him,  who  enjoys  the  communications  of 
the  Divine  Word,  the  conjectures,  which  are  furnished  by  the 
light  of  nature,  are  exchanged  for  a  cheering  certainty,  which 
can  never  be  shaken.  This  high  and  inscrutable  Being  made 
all  things  ;  he  not  only  framed  the  world  and  all  things 
therein,  and  ordained  the  moon  and  the  stars,  but  he  also 
holds  in  his  hand  the  hearts  of  the  children  of  men,  and  turns 
them  whithersoever  he  will.  He  is  not  only  unlimited  in  pow- 
er, but  wholly  unrestricted  and  boundless  in  knowledge,  and 
supreme  in  the  administration  of  his  government.  To  deny 
either  the  one  or  the  other,  either  his  omniscience  or  his 
almightiness  or  the  supremacy  of  his  administration,  would 
be  nothing  less  than*  to  dethrone  Him  from  his  place  in  the 
universe,  and  virtually  to  deny  his  existence  as  Dejty.  As 
has  been  remarked,  the  idea  of  a  God,  possessed  of  such 
transcendent  attributes, (an  idea,  which  is  not  only  proposed 
and  fostered  by  Revelation,  but  is  the  natural  and  necessary- 
product  of  the  human  mind,  except  in  those  few  cases  where 
it  is  repressed  and  annulled  by  peculiar  circumstances,) 
necessarily  embraces  and  implies  the  notion  of  the  universal- 
ity of  law.  The  doctrine,  that  there  is  any  thing  whatever, 
which  is  truly  and  entirely  exempt  from  every  species  of 
oversight  and  control,  is  altogether  inconsistent  with  the 
-recognition  of  the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Being.  If  there 
is  a  God,  there  is  an  universal  law .  Can  that  power  proper- 
ly be  called  omnipotent,  within  the  sphere  of  whose  opera- 
tions there  are  objects,  which  are  entirely  exempt  from  its 
supervision  and  control  ?  Can  that  wisdom  properly  be  called 

*  Livy,  Lib.  Ill,  Cap.  lvi. 


118  UNIVERSALITY    OF    LAW. 

ommiscient,  which  knows  not  what  will  be  the  determina- 
tions and  acts  of  men  in  all  assignable  circumstances,  in  all 
time  and  place  ?  Canthat  government  be.with  any  propri- 
ety of  language  denominated  a  Supreme  government,  within 
whose  limits  there  are  agents,  who  are  not  reached  and 
bound  by  any  of  those  ties,  even  the  feeblest  of  them,  which 
operate  to  unite  the  circumference  to  the  centre  and  to  com- 
bine and  assimilate  the  multiplied  parts  under  one  common 
head  ?  We  must  repeat  it,  therefore,  if  there  is  a  God,  there 
must  be  a  law,  which  is,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  uni- 
versal. 

§  66.  A  presumption  thus  furnished  in  favour  of  the  sub- 
jection of  the  will  to  law. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  pursue  this  subject,  when  contem- 
plated under  this  general  form,  at  much  length.  What  has 
been  said  will  answer  our  present  purpo'se.  If  the  doctrine 
of  the  universality  of  law  be  tenable,' what  shall  we  say  of 
the  will  ?  Does  not  the  position,  that  the  will  is  not  sub- 
ject to  laws,  imply  an  anomaly  in  the  universe  ?  Whatever 
is  not  under  some  sort  of  control,  but  is  entirely  irregular, 
contingent,  and  exempt  from  all  conditions,  is  necessarily 
irresponsible  to  the  supervision  of  any  thing,  even  God  him- 
self. We  have  then  an  exceedingly  strong  presumption, 
when  we  look  at  the  subject  in  the  most  general  light,  in 
favour  of  the  proposition,  that  the  will  has  its  laws.  Espe- 
cially when  we  consider  the  relation,  which  the  will  sustains 
to  the  other  powers  ;  that  its  action  constitutes  the  great  re- 
sult, to  which  the  operation  of  the  other  parts  of  our  nature 
tends  ;  in  other  words,  that,  in  all  cases  of  movement  or  ex- 
ertion, the  volition  is  the  consummation  of  all  the  other  men- 
tal acts,  and  in  effect  represents  the  whole  mind.  If  the 
will  acts  contingently,  then  the  man  acts  contingently  ;   and 


UNIVERSALITY    OF    LAW.  HQ 

while  he  retains  this  alleged  specific  character  of  acting  in 
this  way,  he  is  not  only  free  from  all  law,  thus  destroying 
that  peace  and  joy  of  which  Hooker  asserts  her  to  be  the 
mother,  but  he  cannot  be  controlled  even  by  the  Deity. 
He  has  suffered  a  revulsion  from  the  parent  stock  ;  he  has 
gone  oft*  and  set  up  for  himself ;  he  has  established  an  empire 
of  his  own,  where  even  the  Most  High  must  not  enter  ;  a 
state  of  things,  which  certainly  finds  no  parallel  among  the 
other  existences,  powers,  and  intelligences  of  the  universe, 
and  which  is  rebuked  alike  by  the  conclusions  of  reasoning, 
and  by  the  suggestions  of  virtue. 


CHAPTER  SECOND 


LAW  OF  CAUSALITY. 


§.  67.   Of  certain  laws  or  principles  which  extend  to  all 
classes  of  objects. 

In  asserting  the  universality  of  law,  with  whatever  depth 
of  conviction  on  our  own  part,  we  are  aware  of  the  possibil- 
ity of  meeting  with  some  scepticism  on  the  part  of  others. 
But  we  would  refer  such  persons  to  one  or  two  principles, 
which  are  so  universal  in  their  application,  and  at  the  same 
time  so  deeply  based  in  the  elements  of  human  belief,  as 
fully  to  illustrate  and  confirm  what  has  been  said.  The 
principles  in  themselves  are  abundantly  worthy  of  considera- 
tion, independently  of  their  bearing  upon  the  question  before 
us  ;  and  we  are  the  more  encouraged,  therefore,  to  give 
them  a  specific  notice. 

It  will  be  seen  on  the  examination  of  these  principles, 
that,  when  we  assert  the  universality  of  law,  we  are  not 
without  witnesses.  While  each  object  has  laws  peculiar  to 
itself,  and  while  each  class  of  objects  has  laws  characteristic 
of  it  as  a  class,  there  are  also  laws,  which  are  not  so  limited 


LAW    OF    CAUSALITY.  121 

in  thdr  application,  but  extend  to  all  objects  and  classes  of 
objects  whatever.  The  first  law  of  the  latter  description, 
which  we  propose  to  consider,  may  be  denominated  the  law 
of  causation  or  causality.  Expressed  in  the  more  common 
form,  the  principle  or  law,  which  we  now  refer  to,  is  simply 
this  ;  Every  ErrECT  has  a  cause.  But  stated  in  language 
more  explicit,  and  less  liable  as  we  apprehend  to  misconcep- 
tion, it  may  be  given  as  follows  ;  There  is  no  beginning 
OR  change  of  existence  without  a  cause. 

§.68.  Jl  belief  in  the  law  of  causation  founded  in  Ihe  peculiar 
structure  of  the  human  mind. 

The  principle,  (or  primary  truth  as  it  may  well  be 
denominated,)  that  there  is  no  beginning  or  change  of  existence 
without  a  cause,  is  every  way  worthy  of  attention ,  The  sub- 
ject, which  it  presents  to  notice,  if  it  were  examined  in  all  its 
bearings  and  with  a  fullness  of  detail,  would  spread  itself 
over  the  pages  of  a  volume.  Without  proposing,  however, 
to  enter  into  it  at  much  length,  which  would  be  inconsistent 
with  our  limits,  we  shall  proceed  to  offer  a  few  remarks, 
which  may  tend  to  its  illustration. 

In  explanation  of  the  great  law  of  causality  ,our  first  remark 
is,  that  the  human  mind  is  so  constituted,  that  all  events  an4 
all  objects  of  knowledge  whatever  are  made  known  to  it  in 
time.  And  in  connection  with  this  remark  we  may  add,  that 
there  is  no  apprehension  or  knowledge  of  time,  (we  speak 
now  of  the  human,  and  not  of  the  divine  intellect;)  except 
by  means  of  swccessiow.  It  seems  to  be  universally  admitted 
'  by  those  who  have  given  special  attentiQin  to  the  inquiry, 
that  the  occasion,  on  which  we  have  the  i«?ea  of  duration  sug- 
gested or  called  forth  within  us,  is  succession  ;  particularly 
that  succession  of  thought  and  feeling,  of  which  we  ?ire  con- 
scious as  taking  place  internally.  Hence  the  structure  of 
16 


122  LAW    OF    CAU8ALITY. 

the  human  mind  requires,  (what  indeed  a  constant  experience 
also  teaches  us,)  that  all  those  objects  of  knowledge,  which 
in  the  view  of  the  mind  have  a  distinct  and  separate  exis- 
tence, should  be  contemplated  as  successive  to  each  other;  in 
other  words,all  the  distinct  objects  of  knowledge  of  whatever 
kind  arrange  themselves  as  antecedents  and  sequents.  Hence 
it  happens,  that  we  are  led,  at  a  very  early  period,  to  frame 
the  ideas  of  antecedence  and  sequence,  since  nature  from 
the  very  first  is  necessarily ^  (that  is  to  say,  by  virtue  of  our 
mental  coastitution,)  presented  to  us  and  pressed  upon  our 
notice  under  this  aspect.  It  is  this  necessity  laid  upon  the 
human  mind  of  contemplating  objects  of  thought,  which  are 
brought  before  it  distinct  and  separate  from  each  other,  not 
simultaneously  but  in  succession,  which  Kant  seems  to  have  in 
view,  when  he  speaks  of  Time  as  a  form  or  mode,  that  is,  a 
fundamental  law  of  the  intellect.  It  is  different  with  the  in- 
tellectual perception,  the  mind  of  the  Supreme  Being,  who 
is  not  necessitated  to  become  acquainted  with  objects  in  this 
peculiar  form  or  mode  ;  but  perceives  all  events  and  all  ob- 
jects of  knowledge  simultaneously,  and  spread  out  before  Him 
as  it  were  on  a  map.  It  seems  obvious,  therefore,  that  the 
basis  of  the  belief,  which  is  accorded  to  the  great  law  of 
Causality,  is  deeply  laid  in  the  peculiar  structure  of  the  hu- 
man soul.  The  law  not  only  exists  ;  (that  is  to  say,  it  is 
not  only  a  great  principle  in  nature,  that  all  facts  and  events 
arrange  themselves  as  antecedences  and  sequences  and  sustain 
the  relation  of  cause  and  effect;)  but  the  structure  of  the  mind 
itself  is  such,  that  it  naturally,  and  as  it  were  with  its  earliest 
breath,  imbibeii  a  knowledge  of  it. 

§.69.   Oftht  universality  of  the  law  of  causation. 

Accordingly  from  the  earliest  period  of  our   lives,  we  are 
naturally  led,  by  the  inherent  and  permanent  tendencies  of 


LAW    0;F    CAUSALITY.  123 

our  mental  constitution,  to  contemplate  objects  in  this  way. 
All  objects,  which  are  both  distinct  and  separate  in  them- 
selves, and  are  contemplated  separately  from  each  other  by 
the  mind,  necessarily  pass  before  the  intellectual  view  in 
succession.  They  appear  and  disappear  one  after  another  in 
a  sort  of  perennial  movement,  arising  in  the  course  of  the 
mind's  action  from,  darkness  to  light,  and  then  again  waning 
into  evanescence,  and  wrapping  themselves  in  clouds. 

It  is  in  this  way  we  are  made  acquainted  with  the  general 
idea  of  succession.  But  this  is  not  all.  By  a  careful  obser- 
vation of  what  takes  place  both  within  and  around  us,  we  are 
soon  enabled  to  distinguish  one  succession  from  another  ; 
that  succession  for  instance,  which  is  unfixed  and  variable, 
from  that  which  is  always  the  same.  In  other  words,  we 
soon  ascertain  from  our  experience,  that  certain  facts  and 
events  are  preceded  by  other  fixed  and  invariable  facts  and 
events,  and  that  the  former  never  take  place  without  the  an- 
tecedent existence  of  the  latter.  This  is  the  universal  expe- 
rience in  regard  to  a  great  number  of  facts  and  events,  viz, 
that  they  are  thus  invariably  connected  together.  And  it  is 
this  form  of  our  experience  in  particular,  from  which  no  one 
is  exempt,  which  furnishes  the  occasion  of  the  universal  and 
unalterable  belief,  arising  naturally  and  necessarily  in  the 
human  mind,  and  existing  in  all  ages  and  places  of  the  world, 
that  every  effect,  meaning  by  the  term  whatever  takes  place, 
has  a  cause.  We  say,  existing  in  all  ages  and  places  of  the 
world,  for  this  undoubtedly  is  found  to  be  the  simple  and 
real  fact,  so  far  as  any  inquiry  has  been  made  on  the  subject^ 
and  which  is  ascertained  so  extensively  as  to  warrant  the  fur- 
ther extension  of  it  by  analogy  to  every  human  being.  This 
proposition,  which  may  be  termed  the  law  of  causality,  is 
one  of  those  transcendental  or  primary  truths,  which  lay  at 
the  foundation  of  all  knowledge.      The  belief,  which  is  in- 


124  LAW    OF    CAUSALITY. 

volved  in  it,  is  unprompted,  spontaneous, ^nd  original ;  it  is 
the  necessary  growth  of  the  mind's  action,  in  the  circum- 
stances in  which  we  are  placed  ;  and  so  far  from  being  the 
result  of  reasoning,  which  is  the  foundation'of  so  large  a 
portion  of  our  knowledge,  it  is  entirely  antecedent  to  it,  and 
is  to  be  regarded  as  one  of  those  things,  on  which  the  reason- 
ing power  itself  essentially  depends,  as  one  of  its  primitive 
and  indispensable  bases. 

§.  70.  Of  the  classification  into  Effective  and  Preparative  causes. 

It  is  true,  that  men  after  a  time  learn  to  comment  on  this 
fundamental  proposition,  and  to  make  distinctions.  After 
their  increased  experience  has  enabled  them  to  draw  the  line 
between  the  things  animate  and  inanimate,  material  and  im- 
material, and  especially  after  they  have  learnt  m«re  fully  the 
nature  and  appropriate  residence  of  Power,  they  begin  to 
make  a  distinction,which  undoubtedly  is  a  well  founded  one, 
between  efficient  or  effective  causes,  which  imply  the  exer- 
cise of  power,  and  other  causes,  which  furnish  merely  the 
preparation  or  occasion  of  what  follows. — These  two  classes 
of  causes,  therefore,  might  not  improperly  be  denominated 
and  characterized,  in  order  to  aid  in  distinguishing  them 
from  each  other,  respectively  as  Effective  and  Preparative 
causes.  Certain  it  is,  that  such  a  distinction  is  to  be  made  ; 
and  that  without  it  the  fundamental  principle  of  the  univer- 
sality of  causation  does  not  hold  true.  Both  of  these  classes 
of  causes  imply  the  notion  of  invariable  antecedence  ;  but 
they  differ  in  this.  Preparative  causes,  (if  for  the  want  of  a 
better  term  we  may  be  permitted  so  to  ^call  them,)  furnish 
merely  the  ground  or  occasion  of  what  is  to  follow  ;  while 
Effective  causes  imply  not  only  the  ground  or  occasion  of 
what  follows,  but  the  actual  efficiency  or  power,  which 
brings  it  to  pass.      Effective  causes  have  power  in  them- 


LAW    OF    CAUSALITY.  125 

selves  ;  while  Preparative  causes  only  furnish  the  appropriate 
and  necessary  occasions,  on  which  the  power,  that  is  lodged 
somewhere  else,  exercises  itself.  Both  classes  are  invariably 
followed  by  their  appropriate  results  or  effects  ;  but  the  one 
class,  having  the  whole  efficiency  in  itself,  is  strictly  opera- 
tive and  actually  makes  or  brings  to  pass  the  effect,  what- 
ever it  may  be  ;  but  the  other  class,  which  is  destitute  of 
efficiency  in  itself,  is  merely  the  preparatory  circumstance, 
occasion,  or  condition,  on  which  what  is  called  the  effect, 
either  in  virtue  of  its  own  power  or  some  attendant  power 
extraneous  to  itself,  invariably  takes  place. 

It  is  important  to  remember  this  distinction.  And  it  is 
with  this  distinction  in  view,  and  not  otherwise,  that  we 
assert  the  universality  of  causation  ;  in  other  words  that 
every  effect  has  a  cause .  And  accordingly  it  is  the  univer- 
sal belief  of  men,  evinced  alike  by  their  words  and  their 
conduct,  that  without  a  cause  there  is  neither  any  beginning 
nor  any  change  of  existence. 

§.  71.   Opinions  of  various  philosophers  on  this  subject. 

Probably  on  no  topic  whatever  can  we  find  a  greater 
agreement  and  a  more  decided  concurrence  of  testimony, 
than  in  respect  to  the  fundamental  proposition  now  before 
us.  We  shall  here  introduce  to  the  notice  of  the  reader  some 
passages,  which  will  show,  that  this  remark  is  not  unadvis- 
edly made. 

Archbishop  King. — In  the  celebrated  Treatise  of  this 
learned  and  acute  writer  on  the  Origin  of  Evil,  we  find  it 
maintained  in  a  number  of  passages,  that,  although  there  is 
a  great  First  Cause  or  original  and  uncreated  Active  Prin- 
ciple, all  other  things  whatever,  whether  material  or  immate- 
rial, are  dependent  upon  and  are  connected  with  that  original 
Active  Power,  in  the  unbroken  chain  and   succession   of  ef- 


126  LAW    OF    CAUSALITY. 

fects  and  causes,  however  remote  that  dependence  and  con- 
nection may  be.  "We  are  certain,  he  remarks  in  his  inquiries 
concerning  the  First  Cause  or  God,  that  all  other  things 
come  from  this  Active  Principle.  For  nothing  else,  as  we 
have  shown  before,  contains  in  itself  necessary  existence  or 
active  power,  entirely  independent  of  any  other.  As,  there- 
fore, itself  is  from  none,  so  all  others  are  from  it.  For  from 
hence  we  conclude  that  this  Principle  does  exist,  because, 
after  considering  the  rest  of  the  things  which  do  exist,  we 
perceive  that  they  could  neither  be  nor  act^  if  that  had  not 
existed,  and  excited  motion  in  them."^ 

Dr.  Clarke. — In  the  Demonstration  of  the  Being  and 
Attributes  of  God  we  find  the  subject  under  examination 
referred  to  by  this  distinguished  writer  in  the  following 
terms. — "It  is  absolutely  and  undeniably  certain,  f^af  some- 
thing has  existedfrom  all  eternity.  This  is  so  evident  and  un- 
deniable a  proposition,  that  no  atheist  in  any  age  has  ever 
presumed  to  assert  the  contrary  ;  and  therefore  there  is  lit- 
tle need  of  being  particular  in  the  proof  of  it.  For  since 
something  now  is,  it  is  evident,  that  something  always  was  : 
Othei:wise  the  things,  that  now  are,  must  have  been  produced 
out  of  nothing,  absolutely  and  without  a  cause  ;  which  is  a 
plain  contradiction  in  terms.  For  to  say  a  thing  is  produced, 
and  yet  that  there  is  no  cause  at  all  of  that  production,  is  to 
say  that  something  is  effected,  when  it  is  effected  by  nothing; 
that  is,  at  the  same  time  when  it  is  not  effected  at  all.  What- 
ever exists  has  a  cause,  a  reason,  a  ground  of  its  existence  ; 
(a  foundation,  on  which  its  existence  relies  ;  a  ground  or 
reason  why  it  doth  exist,  rather  than  not  exist  5)  either  in  the 
necessity  of  its  own  nature,  and  then  it  must  have  been  of 
itself  eternal  ;  or  in  the  will  of  some  other  being  ;  and  then 

*  Essay  concerning  the  Origin  of  Evil,  Chap.  I,  §.  3d. 


LAW    OF    CAUSALITY.  127 

that  other  being  must,  at  least  in  the  order  of  nature  and 
causality,  have  existed  before  it."* 

Lord  Kames. -'That  nothing  can  happen  without  a 

cause,  is  a  principle  embraced  by  all  men,  the  illiterate  and 
ignorant  as  well  as  the  learned.  Nothing  that  happens  is 
conceived  as  happening  of  itself,  but  as  an  effect  produced  by 
some  other  thing.  However  ignorant  of  the  cause,  we  not- 
withstanding conclude,  that  every  event  must  have  a  cause. 
We  should  perhaps  be  at  a  loss  to  deduce  this  principle  from 
any  premises  by  a  chain  of  reasoning.  But  perception 
affords  conviction,  where  reason  leaves  us  in  the  dark.  TV*e 
perceive  the  proposition  to  be  true.  And  indeed  a  sentiment 
common  to  all  must  be  founded  on  the  common  nature  ofall.'\^^ 

Mr  Stewart. — "It  may  be  safely  pronounced  to  be  im- 
possible for  a  person  to  bring  himself  for  a  moment  to  be- 
lieve, that  any  change  may  take  place  in  the  material  universe 
without  a  cause.  I  can  conceive  very  easily,  that  the  voli- 
tion in  my  mind  is  not  the  efficient  cause  of  the  motions  of 
my  hand  ;  but  can  I  conceive  that  my  hand  moves  without 
any  cause  whatever? — In  the  case  of  every  change  around 
us,  without  exception,  we  have  an  irresistible  conviction  of 
the  operation  of  some  cause. "J 

Dr  DwiGHT. — "The  mind  cannot  realize  the  fact,  that  exis- 
tence, or  change,  can  take  place  without  a  cause.  This  is, 
at  least,  true  with  respect  to  my  own  mind.  I  have  very  often 
made  the  attempt,  and  with  no  small  pains-taking,  but  never 
been  able  to  succeed  at  all.  Supposing  other  minds  to 
have  the  same  general  nature  with  my  own,  I  conclude  that 
all  others  will  find  the   same  want  of  success.     '  If  nothing 

*  pemonstration  of  the  Being  and  attributes  of  God,  Prop,  I. 
t  Principles  of  Morality  and  Natural  Religion,Lond.  2d.  Ed.  Essay  iii. 
X  Stewart's  Philosophy  of  the  Moral  and  Active  Powers,  Bk.  IIL  Ch.  2d,  §.  I. 


128  LAW  OF  CAUSALITY. 

had  originally  existed,  I  cannot  possibly  realize,  that  any 
thing  could  ever  have  existed."* 

§.72.   Opinions  of  President  Edwards  on  this  subject. 

In  addition  to  these  respectable  testimonies,  without 
referring  to  a  multitude  of  others  not  less  explicit,  we  may 
adduce  that  of  President  Edwards,  as  it  is  found  in  his  able 
Inquiry  into  the  Will.  And  thus  having  occasion  to  refer  to 
that  Work,  we  embrace  this  opportunity  to  render,  with  sin- 
cere pleasure,  our  acknowledgements  to  the  metaphysical 
writings  of  that  distinguished  man,  and  to  express  our  high 
sense  of  his  services  to  the  cause  of  letters  and  of  religion 
in  general.  In  the  wide  grasp  of  his  views,  in  the  ability  of 
patient  and  persevering  thought,  in  the  power  of  perceiving 
and  developing  distinctions  however,  intricate,  in  the  desira- 
ble qualities  of  good  temper  and  candour,  he  has  perhaps 
never  been  excelled.  If  we  take  into  view  not  only  the 
mental  ability,  the  creative  vigour  so  characteristic  of  all  his 
efforts,  but  the  direction  or  tendency  of  the  mind,  (the  intel- 
lectual taste  if  we  may  so  express  it,)  he  is  entitled  to  be 
ranked,  in  either  point  of  view,  in  the  same  exalted  scale  of 
intellect  with  those  distinguished  masters  of  mental  science, 
bishop  Butler  and  Mr  Locke.  Few  have  ever  reached,  by 
their  own  original  efforts,  the  sublime  height  of  his  specu- 
lations, which  are  the  more  wonderful,  as  they  are  alwaj'^s 
based  upon  calm  reason  and  sober  good  sense,  and  perhaps 
fewer  still  have  attained  to  the  radiant  excellence  of  his  vir- 
tue. He  took  his  position  with  unfeigned  humility  at  the 
feet  of  the'Most  High,  and  was  pre-eminently  wise  himself, 
not  only  for  being  originally  endowed  with  the  quickening 
elements  of  wisdom,  but  because  he  sought  the  inspirations 
of  knowledge  from  above. 

♦  Dwight's  Theology,  Scr.  L  on  the  Existence  of  God. 


LAW    OF    CAUSALITY.  129 

On  the  particular  subject,  which  is  before  "us,  Presi- 
dent   Edwards   expresses  himself  thus. "Having  thus 

explained  what  I  mean  by  causcj  I  assert,  that  nothing  ever 
comes  to  pass  without  a  cause.  What  is  self-existent  must 
be  from  eternity,  and  must  be  unchangeable .  But  as  to  all 
things  that  begin  to  be,  they  are  not  self-existent,  and  there- 
fore must  have  some  foundation  of  their  existence  without 

themselves. That  whatsoever  begins  to  be,  which  before 

was  not,  must  have  a  cause  why  it  begins  to  exist,  seems  to 
be  the  first  dictate  of  the  common  and  natural  sense  which 
God  hath  implanted  in  the  minds  of  all  mankind,  and  the 
main  foundation  of  all  our  reasonings  about  the  existence  of 
things,  past,  present,  or  to  come. 

And  this  dictate  of  common  sense  equally  respects  sub- 
stances and  modes,  or  things  and  the  manner  and  circum- 
stances of  things.  Thus,  if  we  see  a  body,  which  has  hith- 
erto been  at  rest,  start  out  of  a  state  of  rest,  and  begin  to 
move,  we  do  as  naturally  and  necessarily  suppose  there  is 
some  cause  or  reason  of  this  new  mode  of  existence,  as 
of  the  existence  of  a  body  itself  which  bad  hitherto  not 
existed.  And  so  if  a  body,  which  had  hitherto  moved  in 
a  certain  direction,  should  suddenly  change  the  direction  of 
its  motion  ;  or  if  it  should  put  off  its  old  figure,  and  take  a  new 
one  ;  or  change  its  colour  ;  the  beginning  of  these  new 
modes  is  a  new  event,  and  the  mind  of  mankind  necessarily 
supposes  that  there  is  some  cause  or  reason  af  them."* 

♦Edward's  Inquiry  into  the  Will,  Part  II,  §.  3d. — ^A  number  of  other 
Americanwriters,  of  less  celebrity  undoubtedly  than  Presidents  Edwards  and 
Dwight  but  still  of  great  weight,  have  maintained  the  principle  under  discus- 
sion. See  among  other  works  Dr  Stephen  West's  Essay  on  Moral  Agency, 
Part  I,  §.  §.  5th,  6th  ;  and  Dr  Burton's  Essays  o;i*some  of  the  First  Princi- 
ples of  Metaphyics,  &c.  Essay  XIII. — See  also,  in  connection  with  this  sub- 
ject, a  recent  English  Work  of  Dr  Abercrombie,  entitled  Inquiries  concerning 
the  Intellectual  Powers,  Pt.  II,  §.  2d. 
«  17 


130  LAW    OF    CAUSALITY 


•    §.  74.   Of  the  results  of  a  denial  of  this  proposition. 

One  or  two  remarks  remain  to  be  made.     Let  it  not  be 
supposed,  as  may  be  likely  to  be  the  case,  that  this  proposi- 
tion or  truth  is  of  but  small  practical  importance.     It  would 
be  unnecessary,  if  it  were  possible  at  this  time,  to  notice  all 
its  applications,  and  to   show  how    constantly  we   make   it 
the  basis  of  our  conclusions  in  the  multiplied  acts  and  duties 
of  every  day  and  hour.     If  this  truth  were  not  allowed  us, 
it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  we  could  not  exist.     It  will  in- 
dicate how  extensively  it  applies,  and  of  course  how  necessary 
it  is  even  to  our  existence,  when  we  remark,  that  even  our 
belief  in  an   external  material  world  is,  in  some   degree,* 
founded  upon  it.     We  have  the  various  sensations  of  taste, 
smell,  sound,  touch,  and  sight ;  but  in  themselves  considered 
they   are  purely  internal ;    they  are  as  much  attributes  of 
the  soul  as  the  emotions  of  cheerfulness  and  joy  and  sorrow 
and  wonder.     We  take  cognizance  of  their  mere  existence, 
and  of  nothing  more  than  their  mere  existence,  till  the  great 
law  of  causality,  which  has  established  itself  in  our  convic- 
tions from  the  first  dawning  of  the  intellect,  and  which  con- 
stantly presses  itself  on  our  notice,  leads  us  to  inquire,whence 
come  these  sensations  ?    What  is  it  that  fills  us  with  harmony, 
and   developes  in  the  soul  these  visions  of  visible  beauty  ? 
The  presence  and  pressure  of  the  great  truth  of  universal 
causation  awakens  the  principle  of  curiosity,  and  we  do  not 
rest  satisfied,  till  we  are  able  to  detect  the  grounds  of  these 
inward  stensations  in  outward  objects,  and  are  thus  led  to 
recognize  and  to  admit  the  existence  of  a  world  of  matter. 
So  that  if  men  coul^  be  made   to  believe  that  there  may  be 
effects  without  causes,  and  could  thus  disconnect  their  in- 
ward sensations  from  all  outward   antecedents,  they  might 


LAW    OF    CAUSALITY.  131 

consistently  regard  all  other  existences  as  identified  and 
embodied  in  their  own,  and  pronounce  every  thing,  which 
seemed  not  to  he  in  themselves,  mere  unsubstantial  images, 

chimeras,  &  illusory  appearances. Among  other  pernicious 

results  of  the  supposition,  that  there  may  be  effects  without 
causes,  is  this,  that  we  are  unable  to  prove  in  that  case  the 
existence  of  the  Supreme  Being.  The  apostle  assures  us, 
that  the  invisible  things  of  God,  even  his.  eternal  power  and 
godhead,  are  made  known  from  the  things  which  are  created. 
And  who  does  not  assent  to  this  great  practical  doctrine  ? 
Who  is  able  to  cast  his  eye  over  the  expanded  face  of  nature, 
decorated  with  countless  forms  of  life  and  beauty,  without 
every  where  reading  the  stamp  and  signatures  of  a  higher 
Power  ?  We  reason  upwards  from  the  things,  which  are 
made,  to  the  maker.  Nature's  works  are  the  foundation  and 
suppoj:t  of  a  sort  of  Jacob's  ladder,  that  reaches  to  heaven  ; 
and  by  means  of  which  even  feeble  men  may  climb  upward 
and  approach  to  the  Most  High,  as  did  the  angels  of  God  in 
the  bright  and  blessed  visions  of  the  Patriarch,  But  how  is 
this  done  ^  By  what  process  shall  we  consummate  this  approx- 
imation to  the  Divine  existence  ?  If  it  be  said,  it  is  done  by 
reasoning,  and  that  reasoning  is  the  ladder  of  ascent,  then 
we  may  ask,  where  is  its  support  ?  What  sustains  it  ?  Where 
does  it  rest  ?  And  all  we  can  say  is,  that  its  basis  is  in  this 
very  proposition  which  we  have  made  the  subject  of  our  con- 
sideration ;  in  the  great  and  fundamental  truth  of  causa- 
tion ;  and  without  that  truth  it  has  not  an  inch  of 
ground  to  rest  upon.  But  if  on  the  other  hand  it  be  true,that 
every  effect  has  its  cause,  then  may  the  universe  of  effects 
around  us,  bound  together  as  it  is  by  the  evidences  of  a 
pervading  unity  as  well  as  expansive  and  pervading  wisdom, 
justly  claim  for  itself  in  its  creation  the  agency  of  a  Su- 
preme Being,  and  thus  lead  our  belief  upward  from  the  things 


132  LAW   OF    CAUSALITY. 

that  are  made  to  the  conception  and  belief  of  the  great  Au- 
thor of  them. 

•§.  74.    The  truth  of  the  proposition  under  consideration  implied 
in  the  fact  of  a  Supreme  existence  or  Deity. 

We  may  here  without  impropriety  briefly  revert  to  a  train 
of  thought,  which  has  been  already  touched  upon  in  the  pre- 
ceding chapter.  We  there  expressed  ourselves  to  the  effect, 
that,  if  there  is  no  law,  there  is  no  Deity.  We  may  go  more 
into  particulars  in  this  connection,  and  may  add  further,  that, 
if  the  law  of  universal  causation  in  particular  be  not  true, 
there  is  no  Deity.  In  making  this  assertion,  however,  it  is 
proper  to  remark,  that  we  employ  the  term  Deity  in  the 
sense  commonly  attached  to  it,  viz,  as  including  the  ideas  of 
omniscience  and  superintendence.  But  obviously  if  the  pro- 
position of  universal  causation  be  not  true,  there  is  no,  basis 
whatever  either  for  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  attributes  of 
the  Supreme  Being.  If  efi:ects  can  take  place  without  causes, 
if  events  can  happen  without  being  connected  in  anyway 
with  any  thing  antecedent,  then  there  is  evidently  no  tie, 
which  can  effectually  unite  them  either  with  the  Divine  mind, 
or  with  any  other  mind.  They  stand  insulated .  and  apart 
from  every  thing  else  ;  they  come  &  go  through  the  great  & 
universal  ordering  and  arrangement  of  things,  like  strangers 
from  an  unknown  land,  whose  advent  and  departure  are  alike 
beyond  all.  anticipation  and  knowledge.  The  vast  and 
boundless  empire,  of  which  God  stands  at  the  head,  would 
be  flooded  by  events,  in  which  He  would  have  no  a- 
gency,  and  of  which  he  could  ha,ve  had  no  antecedent 
conception.  Instead  of  the  harmony  and  unity,  which 
now  every  where  exist  and  every  where  diffuse  trans- 
cendant  happiness,  there  would  be  the  return  of  chaos,  au 
universal  breaking  up  of  the  established  system  of  things,  a 


LAW    OF    CAUSALITY.  138 

complete  and  utter  embroilment,  the  reign  -of  ^chance  and 
tumult,  of  confusion  and  discord,  like  the  jarring  of  the  infer- 
nal  doors,  "  grating  harsh  thunder."  But  the  law  of  causal- 
ity hushes  the  confusion,  arranges  the  discordant  materials, 
and  brings  every  thing  into  order. 

§.  75.  Application  of  the  views  oj  this  chapter  to  the  will. 

Our  object  in  introducing  these  views  must  be  obvious. 
They  apply  directly  to  the  will  ;  and,  if  we  do  not  misap- 
prehend their  bearing,  they  decisively  support  the  doctrine, 
that  the  voluntary  power,  whatever  may  be  true  in  respect 
to  its  freedom,  is  still  not  exempt  from  la^y .  If  there  be 
any  primary  element  of  human  reason  \thatever,  any  un- 
doubted and  fundamental  truth  evolved  from  the  very 
structure  of  the  mind  and  exacting  an  universal  assent,  it  is 
the  one  under  consideration.  BUt  if  the  will  is  exempt  from 
the  superintendence  of  all  law,  if  its  acts  have  respect  to  no 
antecedent  and  are  regulated  by  no  conditions,  then  this 
fundamental  proposition  is  not  true,  and  has  no  existence. 
But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  in  compliance  with  the  dictates  of 
our  nature  and  the  indispensable  requirements  of  our  situa- 
tion, we  adhere  to  this  truth  in  all  that  unlimited  length  and 
breadth,  which  constitutes  its  value,  we  shall  of  course  as- 
sign to  every  act  of  the  will  d,  cause. 

Let  it  be  noticed,  however,  that  we  do  not  specify  here 
the  pijQcise  nature  of  the  cause.  We  use  the  term  cause  here, 
as  we  have  done  in  all  that  has  been  said,  in  its  broadest 
sense,  as  meaning,  according  to  the  nature  of  the .  subject 
spoken  of,  either  the  mere  antecedent  occasion,  or  the  tin- 
tecedent  combined  with  power  ;  as  expressing  either  the 
Effective  cause,  which  truly  makes  the  sequence^  or  the  Pre- 
p?irative  cause,  which  is  merely  a  condition  of  the  existence 
of  such  sequence.     In  the  language  pf  President  Edwards, 


134  LAW    OF    CAUSALITY. 

who  endeavoured  to  prevent  his  being  misunderstood,  by 
taking  particular  precautions  in  respect  to  this  term,  we  em- 
ploy it  "  to  signify  any  antecedent,  either  natural  or  moral, 
positive  or  negative,  on  which  an  event,  either  a  thing,  or 
the  manner  and  circumstance  of  a  thing,  so  depends,  that  it  is 
the  ground  and  reason,  either  in  whole  or  in  part,  why  it  is, 
rathei;than  not,  or  why  it  is  as  it  is,rather  than  otherwise."* 
In  this  comprehensive  sense  of  the  term  we  hold  it  to  be  un- 
deniably true,  that  there  is  no  act  of  the  will,  no  volition 
without  a  cause.  And  this  being  the  case,  it  is  of  course  im- 
plied, that  the  will  itself,  from  which  the  act  or  volition 
originates,  is  subject  to  some  principles  of  regulation  ;  in 
other  words,  has  its  laws, 

*  Edward's  Inquiry  into  the  Will,  Part  II,  §.  3d. 


CHAPTER  THIRD. 


LAW  OF  UNIFORMITY. 


§.  TO.  Belief  of  men  in  the  continued  uniformity  of  nature'' s 
operations. 

Another  principle  or  law  of  practically  universal  applica- 
tion, one  which  like  the  preceding  is  considered  fundamental 
to  the  due  exercise  of  the  reasoning  power  in  the  ordinary 
occasions  of  its  exercise,^  and  the  truth  of  which  seems  to  be 
universally  admitted,  is  this, —  That  there  is  a  permanency  and 
uniformity  in  the  operations  of  nature.  When  we  assert,  as  we 
cannot  hesitate  to  do.that  this  principle  is  accordant  with  the 
common  belief  of  mankind,  and  that  it  is  universally  admitted, 
we  are  not  aware  of  asserting  any  thing  more  than  what  is 
obvious  every  hour  in  the  ordinary  conversation  and  con- 
duct of  men .  Is  not  such  the  case  ?  Does  not  the  slightest 
observation  sho\v  it  ?  All  men  believe,  that  the  setting  sun 
wijl  arise  again  at  the  appointed  hour  ;  that  the  rains  will 
descend  and  the  winds  blow,and  that  the  frosts  and  the  snowa 
will  cover  the  earth,  essentially  the  same  as  they  have  done 


136  LAW  or    UNIFORMITY. 

heretofore  ;  that  the  decaying  plants  of  autumn  will  revive 
in  the  spring  ;  that  the  tides  of  the  ocean  will  continue  to 
heave  as  in  times  past ;  and  that  there  will  be  the  retyrn  and 
the  alternation  of  heat  and  cold  ;  and  that  the  streams  and 
rivers  will  continue  to  flow  in  their  courses.  Their  conduct 
clearly  proves,  in  all  these  cases,  and  in  all  instances  anala- 
gous  to  them,  the  existence  of  a  belief  in  the  principle  of 
uniformity  above-mentioned,  which  seems  deeply  founded, 
constant,  and  unwavering  in  the  very  highest  degree.  If 
they  doubted,  they  certainly  would  not  live,  and  would  not 
act,  and  would  not  feel,  as  they  are  now  seen  to  do.  It  is 
with  this  belief,  that  that  they  lie  down  amid  the  evening 
shadows  and  sleep  in  quietness  ;  it  is  with  this  belief  they 
arise  in  the  light  of  the  morning  and  till  the  reluctant  earth 
in  the  sweat  of  their  brow  ;  it  is  with  this  belief  that  they 
store  their  minds  w^ith  knowledge  which  without  the  belief 
they  could  never  imagine  to  be  at  all  available  to  them  ;  it 
is  under  the  control  of  the  same  immovable  conviction  that 
they  rear  their  habitations  and  provide  in  various  ways  for 
the  good  and  the  evil,the  joys  and  the  sufferings  of  the  future. 
We  are  desirous  of  not  being  misunderstood  in  the  state- 
ment of  this  great  practical  and  fundamental  principle.  This 
principle,  although  it  is  an  elementary  and  fundamental  one, 
seems  to  be  in  some  sense  subordinate  to  the  law  or  princi- 
ple of  causality.  Th^  latter  partakes  more  of  a  transcend- 
ental nature .  We  not  only  fully  believe  it ;  but  it  is  impos- 
sible not  to  believe.  It  is  as  impossible  for  us  to  believe, 
that  existences  can  be  brought  into  being  without  a  cause, 
or  in  other  words  that  nothing  can  produce  something,  as  to 
believe  that  the  part  is  greater  than  the  whole.  But  in 
respect  to  the  other  principle,  although  we  are  so  constituted 
as  fully  to  believe  the  affirmative,  we  do  not  necessarily  be- 
lieve the  absolute   impossibility  of  the  negative.     In  other 


LA\Y   OF    UNIFORMITY.  137 

words,  while  by  our  very  constitution  we  believe  in  the  uni- 
formity of  nature  in  all  its  relations  and  bearings  upon  our- 
selves, we  do  not  necessarily  preclude  the  possible  interpo- 
sition of  that  Being  on  whom  all  nature  depends.  Our  be- 
lief is  undoubtedly  subject  to  that  limitation. 

§.  77."  This  belief  exists  in  reference  to  mind  as  well  as  matter. 

But  while  the  statements  now  made  are  assented  to,  in 
relation  to  the  material  world  and  outward  objects  in  general, 
it  may  be  supposed,  that  they  do  not  hold  good  in  relation 
to  the  mind  of  man  and  spiritual  or  mental  objects.    But  this 
is  an  erroneous  supposition.     There  are  no  sufficient  grounds 
for  maintaining,  that  men  intend  to  limit  the  application  of 
the  principle  in  question  to  mere  material  things  ;  but  on  the 
contrary  they  undoubtedly  regard  it  as  extending  to  mind, 
so  far  as  comes  within  the  reach  of  their  observation,  and 
by  analogy  to  all  minds  in  all  parts  of  the  universe.     In  other 
words,  they  believe,  there  is  an  uniformity  in  mental,as  well 
as  in  material  action.      Certainly  it  must  have  come  vy^ithin 
the  observation  of  every  one,  that  men  act  precisely  as  if 
this  were  the  ca;se.    It  is  admitted  on  all  sides,  that  men  plant 
their  grounds  in  the   spring,  with  the  full  expectation  and 
confidence,  that  the  operations  of  nature  will  be  essentially 
the  same  as  they  have  been,  and  that  vernal  labours  will  be 
enriched  with  autumnal  rewards.      But  do  they  not  exhibit 
the  same  confident  expectation   in  their   intercourse   with 
each  other  ?      Does  not  the  parent  till  the  mind  of  his  child 
in  the  full  expectation  of  a  mental  harvest  ?      Do  not  men 
make  promises,  and  form  covenants,and  incur  responsibilities 
to  an  extent  and  with  an  assurance,  which  can  be  explained 
only  on  the  ground,  that  they  regard  the  law  of  uniformity 
as  being  applicable  to  mental  as  well  as  physical  nature  ? 

Without  this  belief  no  contracts  between  man  and    man 

18 


138  LAW    OF     UNIFOJIMITY. 

would  be  formed  ;  no  business  transactions,  involving  future 
liabilities  and  duties,  would  be  carried  on;  no  domestic 
relationships  would  be  established  ;  but  every  thing  would 
be  thrown*  into  utter  confusion  and  perplexity  ;  and  even  the 
bonds  of  society,  without  which  man  can  hardly  exist  and 
certainly  cannot  be  happy,  would  be  loosened  and  torn  asun- 
der. So  that  the  situation  and  conduct  of  men  may,  in  this 
case,  be  regarded  as  proofs  of  what  they  believe.  And  being 
so  regarded,  they  clearly  indicate  and  prove  the  general  and 
decided  conviction  among  them,  that  there  is  an  established 
and  uniform  order  in  the  mental  opeirations  of  mankind, 
which,  if  not  perfectly  analogous,  is  as  much  so,  as  the  differ- 
ent natures  of  matter  &  mind  will  permit,to  the  regular  course 
of  things,which  w^e  constantly  observe  in  the  physical  world. 

§.  78.   Circumstances  under  which  this  belief  arises. 

It  ought  perhaps  to  be  added,  in  explanation  of  this  belief 
in  the  permanency  and  uniformity  both  of  material  and  men- 
tal nature,  that  it  does  not  appear  to  arise  and  exist  in  its 
full  strength  at  once.  It  seems  to  have  its  birth  at  first  in 
some  particular  instance  ;  and  then  again  is  called  into  exis- 
tence in  another  instance;  and  then  subsequently  in  another 
and  another  ;  till  ultimately  we  are  led  to  regard  that  perma- 
nency and  uniformity,  to  which  it  relates,  as  of  universal 
application  with  the  single  exception  already  referred  to, 
viz,  the  possible  interposition  of  that  great  Being,  on  whom 
all  nature  depends.  As  the  belief  arises  in  this  gradual  way, 
we  may  well  suppose,  that,  in  the  early  periods  of  its  origin 
and  growth,  it  is  comparatively  weak  ;  but  it  soon  acquires 
great  strength  ;  so  much  so  that  every  day  and  hour  we  do 
not  hesitate  to  make  it  the  basis  of  our  conduct.  Even  in 
our  childhood  and  youth  it  had  become  in  our  minds  a  fixed 
principle,  which  in  ordinary  cases  we  no  more  thought  of 


LAW    OF    UNIFORMITY.  139 

questioning,  than  we  did  the  facts  of  our  personality  and 
personal  identity.  We  always  looked  upon  nature,  even  at 
that  early  period,  as  firm,  unshaken,  immoveable  ;  as  going 
forth,  in  all  the  varieties  of  her  action,  to  the  undoubted  at- 
tainment of  certain  definite  ends,  and  as  announcing  in  the 
facts  of  the  past  a  most  perfect  pledge  of  what  was  to  come. 

§.  79.   OJthe  true  idea  of  chance ^  in  distinction  from 
uniformity. 

We  cannot  hesitate  to  assert,  that  the  belief  in  question 
is  accordant  with  fact.  The  mind,  in  this  respect  as  in 
others,  corresponds  with  the  operations  and  course  of  things 
around  it.  They  are  mutually  adapted  to  each  other.  But 
if  others  have  less  confidence  in  these  assertions,  we  would 
propose  to  them  to  consider  a  moment  the  opposite  of  the 
uniformity  contended  for,  viz,  contingency  or  chance. .  We 
must  either  take  law,  which  implies  an  uniformity  of  opera- 
tions, or  CHANCE,  which  implies  none.  There  is  no  other 
alternative.  But  what  philosopher,  what  man  of  the  least 
depth  of  reflection  is  prepared  to  admit,  that  chance,  as  it  is 
called,  has  any  place  at  all  in  the  constitution  of  things  ? 

It  is  true,  we  not  unfrequently  use  this  ternl.  But  if  we 
carefully  consider  the  circumstances,  under  which  it  was 
originally  introduced,  we  shall  find  that  it  necessarily  ex- 
presses not  any  thing  in  nature,  not  any  agency  either  neg- 
ative or  positive,  but  merely  a  certain  position  of  the  hu- 
man mind.  In  other  words,  it  expresses  the  fact,  (and  it 
does  not  necessarily  express  any  thing  more,)  of  the  exis- 
tence of  human  ignorance.  And  hence  it  happens,  that  what 
is  considered  and  called  chance  by  one,  is  far  from  being  so 
considered  by  another,  who  has  a  deeper  rnsight  into  it. 
And  in  all  cases  whatever,  the  increase  of  knowledge  will 
diminish   what  are  considered   the   domains  of  chance   by 


140  LAW    OF    UNIFailMITY. 

those,  who  are  incapable  of  fully  exploring  them.  Some 
person  says,  for  instance,  it  is  a  mere  chance,  whether  the 
American  Congress  or  the  English  Parliament  will  pass 
such  0¥  such  an  act  in  their  coming  session .  But  if  this 
person  could  fully  penetrate  the  hearts  of  all  the  members, 
their  convictions,  interests,  prejudices,  and  moral  sentiments, 
it  would  no  longer  be  chance,  but  become  certainty.  Ac- 
cordingly when  men  assert  the  occurrence  of  a  thing  by 
chance,  it  cannot  be  supposed,  that  they  truly  mean  to  as- 
sert, (for  a  voice  within  them,  an  original  impulse  of  their 
own  nature  assures  them  of  the  contrary,)  that  the  thing  in 
question  happens  without  any  occasion,  reason^  or  cause.  Their 
notions  will  perhaps  be  indistinct,  and  it  is  possible  they 
may  entertain  some  such  idea  at  first  ;  but  if  they  will  only 
analyze  their  thoughts,  they  will  be  convinced,  they  cannot, 
with  any  sort  of  propriety,  intend  to  express  by  it  any  thing 
more  than  their  own  want  of  knowledge.  In  other  words, 
when  a  thing  happens  by  chance,  it  happens  by  chance  in 
respect  to  them.  That  is  to  say,  they  are  not  able  to  com- 
prehend and  explain  how  it  happens  ;  it  comes  in  a  way 
they  know  not  how  ;  and  as  they  can  attach  to  it  no  law,  it 
has  the  appearance  to  them  of  being  without  law.  And  it  is 
this  appearance  Undoubtedly,  rather  than  the  reality  of  the 
absence  of  causation  and  of  law,  which  they  intend  to  ex- 
press, when  they  use  the  word  in  question. 

§.  80.   Grounds  or  foundation  of  this  belief 

It  will  perhaps  be  inquired,  what  is  the  foundation  of  the 
deep  belief,  which  so  universally  attaches  itself  to  the  great 
principle  of  a  permanency  and  uniformity  in  nature  ?  To 
what  part  of  Our  constitution  is  it  to  be  referred  ? — It  would 
perhaps  be  a  natural  explanation  to  suggest,  that  it  is  founded 
upon  acts  of  reasoning.  But  on  examination  this  does  not  ap- 


LAW    OF    UNIFORMITY.  I4l 

pear  to  be  the  case.  We  do  indeed  sometimes  speak  in  some 
such  manner  as  follows  ;  The  sun  rose  to-day,  therefore  it  will 
do  the  same  to-morrow  ;  Food  nourished  us  to-day,  <^ere/bre 
it  will  do  the  same  to-morrow,  &c  ;  a  mode  of  expression^ 
which  seems  to  imply,  that  the  uniformity  of  the  future  is 
inferred  or  deduced  from  the  facts  of  the  past  by  a  train  of 
reasoning.  But  certainly  it  is  not  difficult  to  see,  that  some- 
thing is  here  wanting  ;  that  a  link  in  the  chain  of  reasoning 
must  be  supplied  in  order  to  make  it  cohere  ;  and  that  conse- 
quently there  is  merely  the  appearance  or  form  of  reasoning 
without  the  reality.  The  mere  naked  fact,  that  the  sun  rose 
to-day,  without  any  thing  else  being  connected  with  it, 
affords  not  the  least  ground  for  the  inference,  that  it  will 
rise  again  ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  all  similar  instan- 
ces. We  cannot,  therefore,  prove  the  uniformity  in  ques- 
tion in  this  w£iy. 

But  ifireasoning  is  not  the  basis  on  which  it  rests,  and 
if  we' can  give  no  other  satisfactory  explanation  of  its  origin, 
(and  it  does  not  appear  th^t  we  can,)  all  we  can  say  is,  that 
the  belief,  which  men  so  universally  have  of  such  uniformity, 
is  the  gift  of  natwe  ;  that  it  is  neither  taught  to  them  by  a 
deduction  from  other  principles  nor  communicated  by  any 
other  secondary  process  whatever  ;  but  is  produced  or  arises 
naturally  within  them  ;  the  necessary  and  infallible  growth 
and  product  of  their  mental  constitution.  .  In  other  words 
the  very  structure  of  our  minds  requires  us  to  assume  as  a 
certainty  and  truth,  that  there  will  be,  in  time  to  come  as  in 
time  past,  this  alledged  permanency  and  uniformity  in  the 
Operations,  which  are  going  on  in  the  various  departments  of 
nature,  both  mental  and  material.  Certain  it  is,  no  onei 
appears  to  doubt,  that  such  will  be  the  case,  although  no  one 
can  bring  proof  of  the  fact,  except  such  as  is  furnished  by 
the  irresistible  suggestions  of  his  own  interna^  being.     So 


142  LAW    OF    UNIFORMITY. 

that  the  principle  of  uniformity,  like  that  of  causality,  is 
something  antecedent  to  reasoning  and  not  suhsequent  to  it; 
something  heyond  and  above  reasoning  and  not  dependent 
on  it  ;  one  of  those  original  and  substantial  columns,  im- 
planted within  us  by  the  provident  care  of  nature,  which  the 
reasoning  power  could  never  have  placed  there,  but  upon 
which  thsit  power,  as  it  does  upon  the  other  great  principle 
just  referred  to,  subsequently  erects  its  permanent  and  mag- 
nificent structures. 

'   §.81.  Reference  to  the  opinions  of  Reid  and  Jlbercrombie. 

It  is  proper  to  remark  that  we  do  not  by  any  means  pro-^ 
pose  these  views  as  novel  ;  nor  on  the  other  hand  do  our 
limits  permit  us  to  introduce  passages,  at  much  length,  for 
the  purpose  of  showing,  how  often,  and  how  ably  they  have 
been  maintained  by  distinguished  writers.  We  feel  at  liberty 
to  make  but  one  or  two  references  out  of  a  multitude  of 
others  not  less  explicit.  "  In  the  phenomena  of  nature,  (says  ' 
Dr.  Reid,)  what  is  to  be,  will  ppobably  be  like  to  what  has 
been  in  similar  circumstances.  We  must  have  this  convic- 
tion as  soon  as  we  are  capable  of  learning  any  thing  from 
experience  ;  for  all  experience  is  grounded  upon  a  belief 
that  the  future  will  be  like  the  past.  Take  away  this  princi- 
ple, and  the  experience  of  an  hundred  years  makes  us  no 
wiser  with  regard  to  what  is  to  come. 

"This  is  one  of  those  principles,  which,  when  we  grow  up 
.and  observe  the  course  of  nature,  we  can  confirm  by  reason- 
ing. We  perceive  that  nature  is  governed  by  fixed  laws, 
and  that  if  it  were  not  so,  there  could  be  no  such  thing  as 
prudence  in  human  conduct  ;  there  would  be  no  fitness  in 
any  means  to  promote  an  end  ;  and  what,  on  one  occasion, 
promoted  it,  might  as  probably,  on  another  occasion,  ob- 
struct it.  . 


LAW    OF    UNIFORMITY.  143 

"But  the  principle  is  necessary  for  us  before  we  are  able 
to  discover  it  by  reasoning,  and  therefore  is  made  a  part  of 
our  constitution,  and  produces  its  effects  before  the  use  of 
reason. 

"  This  principle  remains  in  all  its  force  when  we  come  to 
the  use  of  reason  :  but  we  learn  to  be  more  cautious  in  the 
application  ofit.  We  observe  more  carefully  the  circumstan- 
ces on  which  the  past  event  depended,  and  learn  to  distin- 
guish them  from  those  which  were  accidentally  conjoined 
with  it. 

"In  order  to  this,  a  number  of  experiments,  varied  in  their 
circumstances,  is  often  necessary.  Sometimes  a  single  ex- 
periment is  thought  sufl&cient  to  establish  a  general  conclu- 
sion. Thus,  when  it  was  once  found,  that,  in  a  certain  degree 
of  cold,  quicksilver  became  a  hard  malleable  metal,  there 
was  good  reason  to  think,  that  the  same  degree  of  cold  will 
always  produce  this  effect  to  the  end  of  the  world. 

"  I  need  hardly  mention,  that  the  whole  fabric  of  natural 
philosophy  is  built  upon  this  principle,  and,  if  it  be  taken 
away,  must  tumble  down  to  the  foundation. 

"  Therefore  the  great  Newton  lays  it  down  as  an  axiom,  or 
as  one  of  his  laws  of  philosophising,  in  these  words,  Effec- 
tuum  naturalium  ejusdem  generis  easdem  esse  causas.  This  is 
what  every  man  assents  to  as  soon  as  he  understands  it,  and 
no  man  asks  a  reason  for  it.  It  has  therefore  the  most  genu- 
ine marks  of  a  first  principle,  "f 

Dr.  Abercrombie,  in  a  recent  philosophical  work  charac- 
terized by  its  sober  and  practical  good  sense,  speaks  of 
certain  first  truths,  "which  are  not  the  result  of  any  pro- 
cess of  reasoning,  but  force  themselves  with  a  conviction  of 
infallible  certainty  upon  every  sound  understanding.^  without 
regard  to  its  logical  habits  or  powers  of  induction."  Among 
fReid's  Intellectual   Powers  of-  Man,  Essay  V. 


144  LAW    OF    UNIFORMITY. 

these  he  expressly  and  particularly  includes  "a  confidence 
in  the  uniformity  of  nature  ;  or  that  the  same  substance  will 
always  exhibit  the  same  characters  ;  and  that  the  same  cause 
under  the  same  circumstances  will  always  be  followed  by 
the  same  effect.  This,  as  a  first  truth,  is  a  fundamental  and 
instinctive  conviction."* 

§.  82.  Application  of  these  views  to  the  will. 

And  now  let  us  inquire,  how  the  principle  of  uniformity 
will  apply  to  the  general  subject  under  consideration.  Does 
it  not  furnish  an  argument  of  much  weight  in  respect  to  the 
regulation  of  the  will  ?  The  principle  is  understood  to  ap- 
ply, without  exception,  to  every  thing  whatever,  which  has 
properties,  attributes,  or  acts,  whether  its  nature  be  mental 
or  material  ;  and  as  thus  stated  and  understood,  it  is  received 
and  maintained  by  writers  of  great  discernment,  among 
whom  Mr.  Stewart,  who  is  not  apt  to  comniit  himself  in  fa- 
vor of  any  position  of  doubtful  strength,  as  well  as  Dr.  Reid 
and  Dr.  Abercrombie,  may  be  included.  But  if  the  will  be 
not  subject  to  any  regulation,  if  it  be  above  and  beyond  the 
control  of  law,  then  there  can  be  no  uniformity  in  its  opera- 
tions ;  it  is  not  only  impossible  for  man,  but  for  any 
being  whatever  to  predict  what  those  operations  shall 
be,  or  even  to  make  any  approximation  to  such  pre- 
diction. But  if  the  principle  of  uniformity  do  not  hold 
good  in  respect  to  the  will,  it  follows  of  course  that  it  does 
not  hold  good  in  respect  to  the  actions  and  general  conduct 
of  men,  which  depend  upon  the  will.  And  if  it  fails,  both  in 
respect  to  the  voluntary  and  outward  action,  constituting  as 
they  do  so  large  a  portion  of  the  objects  to  which  it  is  alledg- 
ed  to  app.ly,it  certainly  ought  not  to  be  laid  down  as  a  general 
principle.  But  then  if  the  principle  fails  in  respect  to  any 
*  Abercrombie 'a  Inquiries  conceriving  the  Intellectual  Powers,  Ft.  iii.  §.  4th. 


LAW  OF    UNIFORMITY.  \4$ 

part  of  those  things  which  exist,  and  to  which  it'has  hither- 
to been  supposed  lo  apply,  its  authority  is  necessarily  weak- 
ened, if  not  totally  undermined,  in  respect  to  all  its  other 
applications  ;  for,  if  exceptions  to  the  general  principle 
are  once  admitted,  no  man  can  tell  where  they  are  to  be 
found,  or  in  what  number  ;  but  every  thing  in  respect  to  it 
is  thrown   into   uncertainty. 

But  those,  who  assert  the  universality  of  the  principle,  are 
not  by  any  means  disposed  to  admit,  that  it  ever  does  or 
ever  will  fail  any  where.  Not  .because  such  an  admission 
would  be  fatal  to  their  views  ;  ^but  because  they  see  no  rea- 
son for  the  admission.  If  the  planets  are  subject  to  laws  ; 
if  plants  and  tl-ees  and  air  and  clouds  and  rivers  and  oceans 
have  their  uniform  principles  of  action  ;  if  the  same  principle 
extends  to  the  mind,  modified  only  by  the  different  nature  of  the 
subject  ;  if  sensation  and  perception  an4  memory  and  reason- 
ing and  imagination  and  belief  and'  association  act  always 
under  the  condition  of  an  uniformity  of  action  in  all  future 
time  when  the  circumstances  are  precisely  the  same  ;  if  these 
are  undeniable  facts,  as  they  obviously  are  ;.  then  they  find 
themselves  compelled  to  believe,  (and  the  belief  existing 
under  such  circumstances  is  an  original  and  imperative  im- 
pulse of  our  nature,);  that  the  will  too,  whenever  the  circum- 
stances are  the  same,  will  be  uniform  in  its  operations  ;  that 

is,  IT  HAS  ITS  LAWS. 

And  why  should  it  not  be  so  ?  Will  it  not  be  gen- 
erally and  readily  conceded,  that  this  is  a  pleasing  and 
delightful  thought  ?  This  view,  (and  no  other  .can  do 
it,)  makes  man  in  all  respects  a  .part  and  parcel  of  that 
wonderful  universe,  of  which  the  adorable  Creator  is  the 
boundary  and  the  centre.  He  exists  in  it,  as  in  a  delightful 
home.  Wherever  hie  turns  bis  eyes,  .there  are  mansions  pre- 
pared for  him.  Wherever  he  directs  his  footsteps,  invisible 
19 


146  LAW    OF    UNIFORMITY. 

beings,  that  know  all  his  wants,  watch  over  him.  Even  in 
solitude  he  is  not  alone  5  he  still  finds  indications  of  life, 
relationship,  and  love  ;  he  still  finds  himself  encircled  ia  the 
arms  of  God. 

§    83.   Of  an  objection  to  these  views  drawn  Jrom  the  conduct 
of  men. 

We  think  of  no  prominent  objection  to  the  views  of  this 
chapter  excepting  this,  that  the  statements  made  are  more 
agreeable  to  speculation,  than  accordant  with  fact ;  in  other 
words,  that  the  conduct  of  men,  as  daily  coming  under  our 
notice,  does  not  fully  support  them.  In  reply  to  this  objec- 
tion, besides  the  obvious  facts  in  human  action  already  hinted 
at,  we  refer  the  reader  to  the  more  explicit  and  definite 
statements  brought  forward  in  a  subsequent  chapter  on  the 
Prescience  or  foresigljit  of  men,  where  he  will  see,  that  their 
conduct  is  abundantly  conformed  to  the  principle  before  us. 
We  will  however  make  one  remark  here,  which  of  itself  is 
but  little  short  of  decisive. — Men  are  constantly  operating 
upon  each  oth*er,  endeavouring  for  some  purpose  or  other  to 
regulate,  influence,  and  control  the  conduct  of  others.  And 
what  methods  do  they  employ  ?  It  is  evident,  that  they  can- 
not possibly  control  the  conduct  of  their  fellow  men,  except 
by  operating  on  the  will.  And  the  course,  which,  in  accor- 
dance with  this  view,  we  find  them  taking,  is  that  of  apply- 
ing promises,  threatenings,encouragements,  and  exhortations. 
They  address  these  and  other  like  considerations  to  those, 
whose  conduct  they  desire  to  influence,  as  mo/iues;  expecting, 
as  they  think  they  have  abundant  reason  to,  that  they  will 
be  received  and  have  their  influence  as  such.  These  are  the 
means  they  employ  ;  and  no  one  is  ignorant,  that  in  the 
employment  of  them  they  meet  with  ample  success.  But-  if 
th6  action  of  the  will  were  regulated  by  no  fixed  principles, 


LAW    OF    UNIFORMITY.  147 

this  could  never  happen.  IVo  addresses,  made  either  to  the 
interests  or  the  sense  of  duty,  no  motives,  of  whatever  kind, 
can  furnish  a  ground  of  probability  in  respect  to  the  acts  of 
any  being  or  power,  whose  acts  are  in  their  nature  unavoid- 
ably contingent.  Hence  on  the  doctrine  of  contingency, 
which  is  the  opposite  of  that  law,  there  cannot  possibly  be 
any  encouragement  to  the  making  of  such  addresses,  or  to  the 
attempting  of  anj'-  efforts  whatever,  with  the  design  of  influ- 
encing and  regulating  the  conduct  of  others,  since  theriecan 
on  that  doctrine  be  no  possible  foresight  or  even  conjecture 
of  the  results.  Qaly  once  establisji  the  principle,  th^t  the 
will  is  liberated  from  all  particular  tendencies  and  law  ; 
show  that  we  are  utterly  unable  to  predict  the  nature  of  its 
acts  under  all  circumstances  whatever,  and  not  a  man  will  be 
found,  who  has  any  claims  to  an  ordinary  share  of  good 
judgment,  that  will  use  his  efforts  and  apply  means  for  the  ■ 
attainment  of  any  object  dependent  upon  the  conduct  of 
another,  however  desirable  that  object  may  be.  As  he  can 
never  tell  nor  even  conjecture  what  is  suitable  to  be  address- 
ed to  his  fellow-men,  in  order  to  induce  them  to  pursue  a 
certain  course  of  conduct,  it  may  be  regarded  as  certain  that 
he  will  never  make  the  attempt.  But  as  the  facts,  which 
constantly  come  under  our  notice,  are  directly  the  reverse  of 
this,  and  as  such  attempts  in  relation  to  the  actions  of  others 
are  constantly  made,  we  have,  in  this  single  view  of  men's 
conduct,  a  nearly  decisive  answer  to  the  objection  referred 
to. 


CHAPTER  FOURTH. 


LAWS  OF  THE  WILL  IMPLIED  IN  MORAL 
GOVERNMENT, 


§ ,  84.   Of  the  existence  of  a  moral  government. 

But  if  we  turn  our  attention  from  the  fundamental  laws, 
which  are  undeniably  incorporated  with  the  natural  economy 
of  the  universe  both  in  its  mental  and  material  forms,  to  the 
consideration  of  the  predominant  principles,  which  pervade 
its  moral  government,  and  examine  these  principles  with  a 
suitable  degree  of  care,  we  shall  find*  new  and  substantial 
evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  proposition  before  us.  And  accor- 
dingly it  is  our  design  in  the  present  chapter  to  bring  reasons 
to  show,  that  the  doctrine  of  the  will's  subjection  to  law  is 
necessarily  implied  in  the  fact  of  a  moral  government;  as- 
suming in  the  argument,  of  course,  that  we  are  reasoning 
with  those  who  fully  believe  and  admit,  that  such  a  moral 
government  exists,  and  that  men  are  subjects  of  it.  Cer- 
tainly there  is  ample  evidence  that  such  is  the  case,  indepen- 


LAWS    OF    THE    WILL.  149 

dently  of  what  is  taught  on,  the  subject  in  Revelation.  The 
light  of  nature  clearly  and  strikingly  indicates,  that  a  moral 
government,  extending  its  authority  over  the  human  race  in 
particular,  has  an  existence.  Mankind,  (says  Bishop  Butler, 
vrho  has  investigated  this  subject  with  his  acknowledged 
ability  and  candour,')  find  themselves  placed  by  God  in  such 
circumstances,  as  that  they  are  unavoidably  accountable  for 
their  behaviour,  and  are  often  punished,  and  sometimes  re- 
warded under  his  government,  in  the  view  of  their  being 
mischievous  or  eminently  beneficial  to  society."*  Revela- 
tion, whatever  may  be  the  clearness  or  obscurity  of  the  in- 
dications of  unaided  nature,  places  the  existence  of  such  a 
moral  government  beyond  all  doubt.  We  suppose,  there- 
fore, tl^e  fact  of  such  a  government  to  be  admitted. 

§.85.  Laws  of  the  will  deducible  from  the  first  principles  of 
moral  government. 

■'[.'■    '* 
If  a  moral'government  exists,  as  is  assumed  to  be  the  fact 

and  is  known  to  be  so,  then  it  has  its  first  principles  or  ele- 
ments. It  must  of  course  have  its.  predominant  traits,  its 
distinctive  characteristics ,  sonae  admitted  and  essential  truths. 
If  these  traits  or  principles  are  assented  to,  they  must  obvi- 
ously be  assented  to,  with  such  consequences  as  may  fairly 
attach  to  them,  whatever  those  consequences  may  be.  And 
hence  the  mode  of  our  reasoning.  ,  ♦ 

In  conducting  the  ag:gument  drawn  from  this  source,  we 
shall  attempt  to  point  out  some  of  those  things,  which  are 
universally  understood  to  be  implied  in  and  to  be  essential 
to  a  moral  government  j  and  as  these  elementary  principles 
are  successively  pointed  out,  shall  briefly  examine  their  ap- 
plication to  the  subject  under  inquiry.     And  in  this  way  we 

*  Butler's  Analogy  of  Religion  to  the  Constitution  and  Course  of  Nature, 
Pt.  I,  Chap.  3d. 


150  LAWS   OP    THE    WILL 

propose  to  make  it  appear,  that  the  doctrine  of  the  subjection 
of  the  voluntary  power  to  laws  is  implied  in  the  existence  of 
moral  government.  And  if  such  a  government  exists,  which 
is  conceded  to  be  the  fact,then  the  doctrine  in  question  is  true. 

§.  86.  Laws  of  the  will  inferred  Jrom  that  supremacy  or  para- 
mount authority ,  which  is  implied  in  a  moral  government. 

Every  moral  government  implies,  in  the  first  place,  a  ruler, 
a  governor,  some  species  of  supreme  authority.  The  term 
government  itself,  separate  from  any  qualifying  epithet, 
obviously  expresses  the  fact,  that  there  are  some  beings 
governed,  which  is  inconceivable  without  the  correlative  of 
a  higher  and  governing  power.  And  what  is  true  of  all  other 
government  is  certainly  not  less  so  of  that  species  of  gov- 
ernment, which  is  denominated  moral.  In  all  moral  govern- 
ment, therefore,  there  must  undoubtedly  be  some  supreme 
authority,  to  which  those,  who  are  governed,  are  amenable. 

Now  if  men  are  under  government,  they  are  under  law. 
To  be  governed  is  obviously  to  b*e  regulated,  guided,  or 
controlled,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree.  To  say  that  men 
are  governed  and  are  at  the  same  time  exempt  from  law,  is 
but  little  short  of  a  verbal  contradiction,  and  is  certainly  a 
real  one.  But  when  we  speak  of  men  as  being  under  laws, 
we  do  not  mean  to  assert  a  mere  abstraction.  We  mean  to 
express  something  actually  existing  ;  in  other  words  we 
intend  to  assert  the  fact,  that  the  actions- of  men,  whatever 
may  be  true  of  their  freedom,  are  in  some  way  or  other 
reached  by  an  effective  supervision.  But  when  we  consider 
the  undenied  and  undoubted  dependence  of  the  outward  act 
on  the  inward  volition,  we  very  naturally  and  properly  con- 
clude, that  the  supervision  of  the  outward  act  is  the  result 
of  the  antecedent  supervision  of  the  inward  principle  of  the 
will  ;  in  other  words,  the  wij^l  has  its  laws. 


t>  *., 


IMPLIED    IN    MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  151 

§.  87.  Laws  of  the  will  *inf erred  from  that  accountability  and 
dependence^  which  are  implied  in  a  moral  government. 

Wherever  there  is  a  moral  government,  there  is  not  only 
a  higher  or  ruling  power,  but  an  inferior  one,  which  may  be 
held  accountable  to  it.  If  there  is  nothing,  to  which  man  is 
amenable,  there  certainly  can  be  no  accountability  ;  nor  on 
the  other  hand  can  there  be  accountability,  without  some 
person  or  being,  to  whom  such  accountability  attacnes  itself. 
Furthermore,  accountability  always  implies  the  relation  of 
dependence  upon  that  higher  Power  or  authority,  whatever 
it  may  be,  to  which  it  must  be  rendered.  Perhaps  not 
dependence  in  every  respect,  but  certainly  a  limited  depen- 
dence. • 

But  it  is  evident,  that  man  can  never  sustain  the  relation 
of  dependence  on  a  higher  Power  and  of  accountability  to 
that  power,  without  some  medium  of  connection  between 
the  two.  The  4)roposition  is  wholly  inadmissible  and  even 
inconceivable,  that  man  can  be  dependent  upon  and  accoun- 
table to  the  moral  governor  of  the  world,  without  any  defi- 
nite channel  of  communication,  and  without  any  established 
and  permanent  methods  of  connection  between  himself  and 
that  moral  governor. 

But  if  there  be  any  connection  between  the  accountable 
being  and  the  being  to  whom  the  accountability  is  due,  that 
connection,  under  whatever  form  it  may  develope  itself, 
must  reach  and  affect  the  will.  If  there  is  no  connection 
with  the  will,  there  is  no  connection  with  the  man  ;  because, 
as  we  have  already  had  occasion  to  remark,  the  .act  of  the 
will  is  the  result  and  consummation  of  all  the  other  mental 
acts  ;  and  accordingly  it  is  that,  which,  in  a  very  important 
sense,  constitutes  the  man.     We  are,  therefore,  necessarily 


52  LAWS    OF    THE    WILL- 

"brought  to  the  conclusion,  that,  if  man  is  under  a  moral  gov- 
ernment, and  if,  as  implied  in  the  idea  of  his  being  under 
such  a  government,  he  is  dependent  and  accountable,  the 
fact  of  this  accountability  and  dependence  must  attach  itself 
to  the  will  in  particular  as  the  controlling  power  of  his  men- 
tal nature  ;  and  that  consequently  the  will  is  not  contingent 
in  its  action  and  beyond  the  reach  of  laws. — It  will  be  no- 
ticed here  as  in  other  cases,  we  do  not  state,  what  the  pre- 
cise natu|p  or  extent  of  these  laws  is  ;  but  merely  assert 
the  general  fact  of  their  ^jtistence. 

§.  88.   Inferred   also  from  thefact,  that  the  subjects  of  amoral 
government  must  be  endued  with  adequate.pouers  of  obedience. 

As  all  moral  government  must  have  the  right  of  exacting 
obedience  from  its  subjects,  it  follows  necessarily,  that  the 
subjects  of  such  governnjent  must  possess  the  requisite  pow- 
ers of  obedience  ;  not  a  mere  transitory  obedience  yielded 
for  a  moment,  but  one,  which  is  accordant  to  a  prescribed 
course,  and  yielded  for  a  length  of  time.  ^ut1f  the  will, 
which  is  the  governing  power  oves  men's  actions,  be  not 
subject  to  laws,  it  is  self-evident,  that  such  a  continued  or 
protracted  course  of  obedience  cannot  be  rendered,  even 
with  the  most  favourable  dispositions  on  the  part  of  those 
from  whom  it  is  due.  Man  is  in  this  case  not  under  the 
control  of  himself ;  he  can  never  tell  at  one  moment  what  he 
may  do  or  be  the  next  j  and  it  is  altogether  inadmissible, 
therefore,  to  suppose,  that  he  can  by  his  own  act  conform 
himself  to  the  control  of  another.  There  may  indeed  be  an 
occasional  and  momentary  coincidence  between  his  actions 
and  the  requisitions  laid  upon  him  ;  but  whenever  this  is  the 
case,  it  is  merely  a  matter  of  accident,  and  -neither  in  fact 
nor  in  spirit  comes  up  to  the  idea  of  that  obedience,  which 
is  due  to  a  moral  governor.      In  a  word,  if  the  acts  of  the 


IMPLIED   IN    MORAL   GOVERNMENT.  }^S 

will  are  not  based,  as  the  occasions  at  least  of  their  being 
called  forth,  upon  any  conditions  whatever  and  are  truly- 
contingent,  man  Iftis  no  power  to  obey.  And  if  he  has  no 
power  of  obedience,  (using  the  term  to  mean  a  continued  or 
protracted  as  well  as  momentary  obedience,)  then  he  is  un- 
der no  obligation  so  to  do.  And  moral  government  undier 
such  circumstances  can  never  exist  in  respect  to  the  human 
race. 

§.  89.  Laws  of  the  will  inferred  from  that  rationality  which 
is  essential  to  the  subjects  of  a  moral  government. 

Again,  if  we  look  further  into  the  elementary  principles 
of  moral  government,  we  shall  find,  that  this  sort  of  adminis- 
tration differs  from  all  natural  or  physical  government  in  this 
respect,  that  its  subjects  are  not  only  agents,  l/i;t  are  neces- 
sarily rational  agents,  The  attribute  of  rationality  is  abso- 
lutely essential  to  them,  as  accountable  and  moral  beings. 
That  is  to  say,  their  actions,  so  far  as  they  are  of  a  moral 
nature,  are  ultimately  based  upon  the  perceptions  of  our  in- 
tellectual part  or  understanding. 

We  can  undoubtedly  conceive  of  a  purely  sentient  being, 
formed  wholly  of  instincts,  appetites,  desires,  and  passions, 
without  the  intellectual  endowments,  (at  least  to  any  ex- 
tent worthy  of  notice,)  of  perceiving,  comparing,  abstract- 
ing, and  reasoning.  Nor  is  the  possibility  of  such  a  being 
left  wholly  to  imagination,  since  we  ha*ve  abundant  instan- 
ces in  the  brute  creation  around  us.  But  such  beings, 
wherever  they  may  be  found  and  whatever  purposes  more  or 
less  important  they  may  answer  in  the  arrangements  of  the 
universe,  are  not  the  subjects  of  moral  emotions  and  of  feel- 
ings of  obligation,  nor   are  they   morally  accountable.     A 

sort  of  instinctive  perception  at  once  adjudges  them  incapa- 
20 


154  LAWS    OF    THE    WILL 

ble  of  that  higher  destiny.     Rationality,  therefore,  is  an  in- 
cident, or  rather  prerequisite  of  a  moral  nature. 

If  man,  therefore,  is  a  rational  being,  "v^hich  must  ibe  con- 
ceded as  indispensable  to  the  fact  of  his  being  in  subjection 
to  a  moral  government,  then  his  actions,  as  has  been  stated, 
are  ultimately  based  upon  the  perceptions  of  the  under- 
standing. And  if  his  actions  are  susceptible  of  being  thus 
based  and  regulated,  then  the  operations  of  the  will  may  be 
regulated,  (and  must  be  regulated  to  the  extent  that  the  out- 
ward actions  are,)  in  the  same  way,  since  the  outward  ac- 
tions have  their  origin  in  the  decisions  of  the  voluntary  power. 
But  if  it  be  true,  that  the  operations  of  the  will  are  in  this 
way  connected,  indirectly  and  ultimately  at  least,  with  the 
antecedent  perceptions  of  the  intellect,  then  they  are  subject 
to  laws.  There  may  indeed  be,  and  there  certainly  are, 
emotions  and  desires  and  feelings  of  obligation  intervening 
between  the  perceptions  of  the  intellect  and  the  acts  of  the 
will.  But  still  the  latter  in  all  cases  strike  their  roots  through 
the  intervening  mental  elements,  and  thrust  themselves  in- 
to the  intellect  as  their  original  basis  and  support.  Without 
this,  man  could  not  with  propriety  be  denominated  a  rational 
being  ;  and  with  this  he  cannot  with  propriety  be  deemed  a 
being,  the  acts  of  whose  will  are  contingent.  "One  thing  is 
clear  and  indisputabkj  says  Mr.'  Stewart,  that  it  is  only  in  so 
far  as  a  man  acts  from  motives  or  intentions,  that  he  is  entitled 
to  the  character  of  a  raiiowa/ being. "*-In  this  passage  it  is  in 
effect  asser^d  as  clear  and  indisputable,  that  man  is  a  rational 
being,  only  so  far  as  he  acts  from  motives  or  intentions  ; 
which  of  course  implies,  that  the  exercises  of  the  will  are  put 
forth  in  connection  with  such  motives  or  intentions,  and  are 
consequemtly  subject  to  certain  antecedent  conditions  or 
laws.  The  word  intentions  seems  to  express,  not  those  acts 
of  the  sensibilities  or  heart  which  are  in  immediate  contact 
with  the  will,  but  the  antecedent  perceptions  of  the  intellect. 
♦Philosophy  of  the  Active  and  Moral  Powers,  Append.  I,  §!  2d. 


IMPLIED    IN    MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  I55 

§.  90.  Laws  of  the  will  inferred  from  the  fact  that  in  the  ad- 
ministration oj  a  moral  government  motives  are  employ ^d.* 

•  Let  it  further  be  remembered  as  a  fixed  principle  in  moral 
government,  that  it  is  sustained  in  its  character  of  a  mor^l 
government,  not  by  the  application  of  physical  power,  but  by 
the  presentation  of  motives.  The  fact,  that  men  are  influen- 
ced and  directed  by  the  motives  set  before  them,  is  an  en- 
couragement in  the  making  of  moral  efforts,  and  in  the  use 
of  such  means,  as  are  adapted  to-  reclaim  the  vicious,  or  to 
strengthen  habits  of  virtue.  When  men  go  astray,  what  can 
we  do  more  in  our  attempts  at  reclaiming  them,  than  apply 
promises,  threatenings,  and  exhortations  ?  We  address  these 
to  them  as  motives,  expecting  that  they  will  be  received,  and 
have  their  influence  as  such.  These  are  the  means,  which 
we  employ,  and  we  find  that  they  meet  with  success.  But 
liberate  the  will  from  all  particular  tendencies  and  law  ;  show 
that  we  are  utterly  unable  to  predict  the  nature  of  its  acts 
under  all  circumstances  whatever,  and  then  there  is  no  en- 
couragement to  apply  means  for  the  attainment  of  moral 
ends  ;  there  is  no  encouragement  to  moral  eftbrts  of  any 
kind.  When  this  is  the  case,  we  can  never  tell  what  is  suita- 
ble to  be  addressed  to  men,  in  order  to  induce  them  to  change 
their  course  of  conduct.  And  moral  government  under  such 
circumstances  cannot  exist. 

§.  91.  Inferred  also  from  the  application  of  rewards  and 
punishments. 

There  is  another  point  of  view,  in  which  the  subject  may 
be  contemplated.  Accountability,  as  has  already  been  stat- 
ed, is  essential  to  moral  government.  But  accountability 
implies,  that  the  person  or  persons,  who  are  subject  to  it, 
may  be  called  to  an  account ;  and  this  of  course  implies,  that 


166  LAWS    OF    THE    WILIj 

the  being,  who  has  the  right  of  calling  them  to  siiph  account, 
may  inflict  punishment  in  case  of  delinquency.  In  other 
words,  wherever  there  is  accountability,  there  is  the  correl- 
ative right  df  enforcing  it  ;  that  is  to  say,  of  punishing  \£ 
necessary.  But  if  volitions  are  independent  of  motives  and 
are  entirely  contiilgent,  no  man  can  tell,  as  has  already  been 
intimated,  at  one  hour  or  one  moment  what  he  will  do  the 
next  ;  he  cannot  possibly  have  any  foresight  even  of  his 
own  actions, -and  cannot  take  measures  to  prevent  those 
which  are  evil.  In  the  estimation  of  a  right  conscience, 
there  would  be  no  more  propriety  in  punishing  such  a  man^s 
actions,  than  in  punishing  a  stone  or  a  billet  of  wood,  which 
may  have  accidentally  been  the  occasion  of  some  injury  to 
us. .  As  his  will  is  beyond  the  reach  of  all  laws,  there  are  no 
principles  by  means  of  which  its  exercises  can  be  subjected, 
(we  do  not  say  to  the  power  of  others  merely,)  but  even  to 
his  own  power.  He  is  the  sport  of  an  unfathomable  fortui- 
ty, a  sort  of  foot-ball,  impelled  in  every  possible  contrarie- 
ty df  direction,  the  ceaseless  but  imbecile  plaything  of  inex- 
plicable chance.  Such  a  man  certainly  is  not  the  proper 
subject  of  punishment.  And  for  like  reasons  he  is  not  the 
proper  subject  of  rewards. 

§.  92.    The  same  inferred  from  the  fact,  that  the  moral  govern- 
ment of  the  present  life  is  in  its  nature  disciplinary. 

And  there  is  yet  another  and  distinct  view  of  that  moral 
government  under  which  men  are  placed",  which  is  especially 
worthy  of  notice  in* connection  with  the*  subject  under  consid- 
eration. The  moral  administration,  to  which  men  are  sub- 
ject in  the  present  life,  is  in  its  nature  disciplinary.  As  far 
ias  ma?ii  is  concerned^  it  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  the  present 
state  of  being  is  incfpient  and  preparatory^  to  another  and 
ampler  field  of  existence.     It  is  here,  on   the  field  of  action 


IMPLIED  IN  MORAL  GOVERN 

where  we  are  now  placed  in  the  present  life,  w|to(^^  ie.  ^W- 
posed  to  train  up  men  for   glory,  honour,  and  iraMSfelity. 

The  present  is  a  state  of  probation  preparatory  to  this 
eiid.  And  it  will  be  kept  in  mind,  that  it  is  proposed  to  se- 
cure this  result  by  trial,  exposure,  exercise,  training,  disci- 
pline. But  a  moral  regimen  of  this  kind  implies,  that  there  are 
evils  to  be  encountered  ;  that  there  are  duties  to  be  perform- 
ed ;  that  there  are  obstacles  to  be  overcome  ;  that  there  are 
temptations  to  be  resisted  ;  and  that  men  are  not  only  to 
sustain  their  souls  in  patience,  meekness,  and  fortitude,  but 
to  purify  .them  in  the  prospect  of  an  ultimate  triumph. 

But  if  the  will  be  not  subject  to  laws,  all  this  is  words 
without  meaning.  It  must  be  obvipus,  that  there  can  be  no 
moral  trial  or  discipline  of  man  without  temptation.  And  it 
is  no  less  clear,  that  temptations  must  be  ultimately  addressed 
to  the  will,  or  they  are  nothing.  My  understanding,  for  in- 
stance, tells  me,  that  the  attainment  of  a  certain  object  will 
be  promotive  of  my  present  good  ;  my  desires  are  strongly 
enkindled  in  view -of  that  object  ;  my  conscience  condemns 
it  ;  and  here  undoubtedly  is  the  basis,  the  preparatory  condi- 
tions of  the  temptation.  But  still  there  must  be  some  internal 
object,  upon  which  the  temptation  presses  ;  some  principle 
of  the  mental  nature,  upon  which  it  is  brought  to  bear.  And 
where  is  this  principle  or  power  to  be  discovered,  around 
which  the  strength  of  the  temptation  thus  gathers,  and  en- 
ters into  contest,  if  it  be  not  the  will  ? — But  if  moral  disci- 
pline, (at  least  that  of  the  present  life,)  implies  temptation  ; 
and  if  temptation,  as  it  obviously  does,  implies^a  pressure 
upon  the  will,  then  the  will  must  be  subject  to  laws.  For  if 
it  be  not  subject  to  laws,  there  seems  to  be  no  possible  way, 
in  which  the  temptation  can  approach  it,  or  exert  any  influ- 
ence upon  it.  That,  which  is  without  law  either  in  mind  or 
matter,  is  necessarily  unapproachable^  except  by  mere  ac- 
cident. 


158  LAWS    OF    THE    WILL 

^.  93.    That  the  will  has  laws  implied  in  the  existence  of  virtue 

and  vice. 

Finally,  if  the  will  is  truly  contingent  in  its  action  and 
entirely  without  laws,  it  cannot  fail  to  follow,  that  there  is 
no  tenable  foundation  of  virtue  and  vice. — It  is  a  common 
maxim,  founded  on  the  general  experience  and  universally 
held  to  be  true,  that  actions  are  reprehensible  or  otherwise, 
according  to  the  designs,  intentions,  or  motives,  with  which 
they  originated.  But  if  the  acts  of  the  will  are  perfectly 
contingent,  (that  is  to  say,  are  put  forth  without  a  regard  to 
any  thing  else  whatever,)  then  it  is  obvious,  that  designs 
or  motives,  considered  in  reference  to  such  acts,  are  entirely 
excluded,  and  have  no  existence.  It  is  evident  that  a  man 
in  that  case  can  justly  say  of  any  action  he  performs,  which 
is  deemed  by  the  community  either  virtuous  or  vicious,  that 
it  happened  merely  because  it  did  happen  ;  that  it  came  to 
pass  without  any  forethought  or  intention  or  design  on  his 
part ;  that  he  knows  of  no  rational  cause  -of  its  origin  ;  and 
in  a  word,  that  it  is  truly  and  wholly  accidental.  And  is  such 
a  man,  of  whose  actions  these  statements  are  undeniably 
true,  to  be  either  blamed  or  commended  ?^  Where  is  the 
basis,  in  his  actions  or  his  character,  of  either  morality  or 
immorality  ?  Is  he  not  b^ond  the  reach,  in  every  respect, 
of  virtue  and  vice  ? 

No  one  can  be  ignorant,  that,  when  a  man  is  arraigned  on 
any  accusation,  one  of  the  first  inquiries  is  in  respect  to  his 
designs  or  motives  in  perpetrating  the  alleged  criminal  act. 
By  the  law  of  the  land,  if  a  man  has  put  another  to  death 
with  malice  aforethought,  (that  is,  with  an  evil  design  or  in- 
tention of  so  doing,)  it  is  murder  ;  if  the  deed  is  committed  in 
the  violence  of  momentary  passion,without  any  premeditated 
purpose,  it  becomes  the  diminished  crime  of  manslaughter  ; 
jf  it  be  what  is  called  accidental,  or  in  other  words  without 


IMPLIED    IN     MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  159 

any  hostile  feeling  and  without  in  the  least  intending  or  ex- 
pecting the  result  which  followed,  then  it  is  no  crime  at  all. 
And  so  on  the  other  hand,  if  a  man  performs  a  highly  bene- 
ficial action,  with  the  view  and  the  intention  of  doing  good, 
all  men  agree  in  pronouncing  it  virtuous  and  praiseworthy  ; 
but  if  they  discover  the  action  to  be  wholly  accidental,  they 
equally  agree  in  denying  to  its  author  any  claims  ta  moral 
merit  and  commendation.  In  a  word  the  circumstance  of  an 
action's  being  accidental  is  understood  to  destroy  its  mdral 
character.  But  what  is  the  true  idea  or  characteristic  of  an 
accident  ?  It  is  evidently  that,  which  has  no  cause,  no  reason, 
no  reference  to  any  fixed  principle.  And  every  volunta- 
ry act,  on  the  supposition  of  the  will's  not  being  subjected  to 
law,  is  precisely  conformed  to  this  view.  Every  such  volition 
is  truly  an  accident.  And  as  such,  the  common  consent  of  man- 
kind would  deny  to  it,  both  in  itself  and  its  results,  the  pos- 
session of  any  moral  character  whatever. 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  point  out  passages  in  writers 
of  acknowledged  value,  going  to  confirm  the  various  views 
of  this  chapter.  On  the  subject  of  the  present  section. 
President  Edwards  expresses  himself  in  the  following  deci- 
ded language. — "  If  it  should  be  allowed  that  there  are  some 
instances  wherein  the  soul  chooses  without  any  motive  ; 
what  virtue  can  there  be  in  such  a  choice  ?  I  am  sure  there  is 
no  prudence  or  wisdom  in  it.  Such  a  choice  is  made  for  no 
good  end  ;  for  it  is  for  no  end  at  all.  If  it  were  for  any  end, 
the  view  of  the  end  would  be  the  motive  exciting  to  the  act  ; 
and  if  the  act  be  for  no  good  end,  and  so  from  no  good  aim, 
then  there  is  no  good  intention  in  it  :  and  therefore,  accord- 
ing to  all  our  natural-  notions  of  virtue,  no  more  virtue  in 
it  than  in  the  motion  of  the  smoke,  which  is  driven  to  and 
fro  by  the  wind,  without  any  aim  or  end  in  the  thing  moved, 
and  which  knows  not  whither,  nor  why  and  wherefore,  it  is 
move.d."* 

♦Edward's  Inquiry  into  the  Will,  Part  iii,  §.  7th. 


CHAPTER   FIFTH, 


LAWS  OF  THE  WILL  LMPLIED  IN  THE  PRESCIENCE 
OF  THE  DEITY. 


§.94.   The  notion  which  men  naturally  form  of  the  Deity 
implies  foreknowledge. 

.  In  proof  of  the  general  proposition,  that  the  Will  has  its 
LAWS,  "we  now  enter  upon  a  distinct  train  of  thought.  In 
the  present  chapter  we  propose  to  bring  forward  in  its  sup- 
port the  Prescience  of  the  Deity.  And  accordingly  it  will  be 
necessary  to  say  something  in  support  of  tKe  fact,  that  there 
is  such  prescience,  or  in  bther  words  that  God  foreknows 
whatever  comes  to  pass.  We  do  not  however  propose  to 
enter  at  much  length  into  this  specific  topic  ;  for  the  general 
acquiescence  in  the  proposition  of  God's  foreknowledge  reur 
ders  it  unnecessary  ;  but  merely  to  suggest  in  relation  to  it 
one  or  two  considerations. 

•  And  we  naturally  remark  in  the  first  place,  that  the  idea, 
which  all  men  agree  in  forming  of  the  Deity,  implies  fore- 
knowledge. We  say  nothing  here  of  the  light,  which 
Revelation  throws  upon  this  subject  ;  but  refer  merely  to 
the  notion  of  the  Deity,  which  men  form  of  themselves. 
The  basis  of  this  paramount  idea  is  abundantly  laid   in   the 


human  constitution.  We  do  not  undertake  to  say  it  is  innately 
in  the  sense  in  which  that  term  has  been  commonly  under- 
stood ;  but  merely  j^ssert,  that  the  human  mind  is  so  consti- 
tuted, and  is  operated  upon  by  such  influences,  that  the  idea- 
of  God  arises  in  it  naturally  and  certainly,  unless  there  are 
some  peculiar  circumstances  counteracting  this  tendency. 
Hence  we  find,  in  all  countries  and  among  all  classes  of  men, 
in  the  cheerless  hut  of  the  Esquimeaux,  in  the  rude  dwellings 
of  the  uncivilized  tribes  inhabiting  the  islands  of  the  Pacific, 
in  the  tent  of  the  vagrant  Arab,  as  well  as  among  those  who 
are  refined  by  the  arts  and  enlightened  by  science,  the  no- 
tion of  a  God.  The  conception  may  indeed  be  a  feeble  and 
imperfect  one,  compared  with  that  developed  in  the  Scrip- 
tures ;  but  feeble  as  it  is,  it  always  includes  the  idea  of  pres- 
cience or  foresight  in  a  much  higher  degree  than  is  posses- 
sed by  man.  The  very  heathen  would  scoff  at  the  idea  of  a 
God,  whose  knowledge  is  limited  to  the  present  moment. 

§.  95.    The  prescience  of  God  involved  and  implied 
in  his  omniscience. 

But  we  are  not  left,  in  the  consideration  of  this  subject, 
to  the  suggestions,which  are  furnished  by  an  examination  of 
the  opinions  of  men,  however  naturally  they  may  liave  aris- 
en, or  however  widely  prevailed.  God  has  seen  fit,  in  the 
exercise  of  his  great  mercy,  to  speak  by  his  Revealed  Word, 
and  to  pour  the  light  of  inspiration  on  the  dim  and  uncertain 
light  of  human  reason.  He  has  declared  himself  to  possess 
all  knowledge.  He,  who  is  familiar  with  the  Bible,  cannot 
fail  to  recollect  many  passages,  where  this  great  truth  ap- 
pears*. The  hundred  and  thirty  ninth  Psalm,  one  of  the  most 
striking  and  beautiful  in  that  exceedingly  interesting  collec-^ 
ti'oh  of  sacred  poetry,   turns   almost   exclusively  upon   the 

great  and  wonderful  knowledge  of  God.    "  Thou  knowest 
21 


162  LAWS    OF    THE    WILL    IMPLIED 

my  down- sitting  and  mine  up-rising  ;  thou  understandest 
my  thought  afer  off.  Thou  compassest  my  path  and  my  ly- 
ing down,  and  art  acquainted  with  all  my  ways."  The 
Psalmist  in  another  place,-  after  asserting  the  greatness  of 
the  Lord  and  of  his  power,  immediately  adds,  that  /lis  under- 
standing is  infinite. ^^  In  another  passage  of  the  Psalms  of 
great  sublimity,  God  is  introduced  as  saying,  "I  know  all  the 
fowls  of  the  mountains,  and  the  wild  beasts  of  the  field  are 
mine  ;"  expressions  which  convey  a  sentiment  parallel  to 
that  of  the  New  Testament,  in  the  passages  where  it  is  as- 
serted, that  not  a  sparrow,  falls  without  the  notice  of  God, 
and  that  the  hairs  of  our  head  are  numbered.  "Neither  is  there 
any  creature,  says  the  Apostle,  that  is  not  manifest  in  His 
sight ;  but  all  things  are  naked  and  opened  unto  the  eyes  of 
Him  with  whom  we  have  to  do."  The  beloved  Pisciple  says, 
."God  is  greater  than  our  heart,  and  knoweth  all  things."* 

But  if  God  is  omniscient,  which  is  clearly  implied  or  as- 
serted in  these  and  many  other  passages,  it  follows  of  course, 
that  he  is  able  to  foresee  events,  whatever  they  may  be, 
which  shall  come  to  pass  in  future  times. 

And  let  it  be  remembered  here,  that  God  does  not  have  a 
knowledge  of  things  in  precisely  the  same  way  as  men  have, 
viz,  in  succession,  or  as  they  arise  before  the  mind's  eye  one 
after  another;  but  on  the  contrary  it  seems  rather  to  be  the 
fact,  that  all  the  knowledge  He  possesses,  whether  more  or 
less,  exists  in  the  perception  of  his  mind  simultaneously  ;  it 
is  all  taken  in  and  contemplated  at  one  view .  With  Him 
there  is  neither  beginning  of  days  nor  end  of  years ;  no 
present,  past,  nor  future.  And  hence  if  we  strike  off  from 
the  great  circle  of  his  knowledge  that  part  or  section,  which 
we  denominate  the  future,  his  omniscience  is  at  once  shorn 
of  the  attribute  of  perfection,  and  is  presented  before  us  in*  a 

*  Ps.  ;i47,  5.  50,  10.  Heb.  4, 13.    First  Epis.  of  John,  3d,  20. 


IN    THE    PRESCIENCE    OF    THE   DEITY.        163 

state  of  deformity  and  mutilation.  And  accordingly  we  as- 
sert, that  the  omniscience  of  God,  a  truth  sa  obvious  to  rea- 
son and  so  abundantly  taught  in  the  Scriptures,  implies  the 
doctrine  of  prescience,  and  that  he  has  a  clear  knowledge  of 
all  future  events. 

§.  96.   The  prescience  of  God  directly  taught  in  the  Scriptures. 

The  divine  prescience  or  foresight"  is  not  only  implied  in 
the  omniscience  of  God,  as  that  attribute  is  made  known  in 
the  Scriptures,  but  is  itself  separately  and  distinctly  made 
known  in  a  multitude  of  passages.  The  Supreme  Being 
himself,  in  the  language  ascribed  to  Him  by  the  prophet 
Isaiah,  assertsj  "  I  am  God  and  there  is  none  like  me,  declar- 
ing the  end  from  the  beginning,  and  from  ancient  times  the 
things  that  are  not  yet  done."  "Known  unto  God,  says  the 
Apostle  James,  are  all  his  works, /romf/ie  beginning  of  world  .'^''* 

Nor  does  the  doctrine  of  God's  foreknowledge  rest  upon 
general  statements  alone  ;  b«it  we  have  instances  again  and 
again  of  predictions,  uttered  long  before  the  events  came  to 
pass,  which  were  strictly  fulfilled.  The  deluge  was  predic- 
ted one  hundred  and  twenty  years  before  it  came  on  the 
face  of  the  earth.  It  was  foretold,  that  the  children  of  Israel 
should  be  in  bondage  four  hundred  years.  ThjD  cruel  con- 
duct of  the  Syrian  Hazael,  and  the  deliverance  wrought  out 
by  the  hand  of  the  Persian  Cyrus,  are  matters  of  precise 
and  specific  prediction.  The  destruction  of  Babylon  and  of 
Nineveh,  with  many  of  the  circumstances  attending  their 
overthrow,  was  predicted  also.  The  coming  and  the  preach- 
ing of  Jesus  Christ,  and  particularly  his  humiliation,  trials, 
and  death  were  foretold  by  the  mouth  of  holy  men,  many 
years  and  even  ages  before  the  events  themselves  took 
plac6.    The  destruction  of  Jerusalem  ,  (^not  to  mention  other 

♦  Isaiah  46  ch,  9»  10  v.  Acts,  ch.  15,  18  v. 


164  LAWS    OF    THE    WILL    IMPLIED 

instances  equally  decisive  in  their  "bearing  on  this  subject,) 
was  depicted  loag  before  it  happened,  and  with  a  wonderful 
particularity  and  vividness.-^In  view  of  these  facts  and 
others  like  them,  we  have  only  to  make  the  remark,  and  we 
do  it  with  full  confidence  in  its  correctness,  that  predictions 
so  numerous  and  specific,  and  so  exactly  fulfilled,  could  not 
have  been  uttered  without  the  possession  of  foreknowledge 
or  prescience  on  the  part  of  their  author. 

§.  97.  The  foreknowledge  of  events  implies  the  foreknowledge  of 
volitions. 

And  it  is  further  to  be  noticed  in  regard  to  many,  if  not 
all  the  events,  which  have  taken  place  in  accordance  with 
such  predictions  as  those  referred  to  in  the  last  section,  that 
they  were  dependent  on  the  volitions  of  men.  The  volun- 
tary actions  of  men  necessarily  imply  the  antecedent  exer- 
cise of  volitions;  and  it  is  impossible,  that  any  being  whatever 
should  foresee  the  actions  without  a  foresight  at  the  same 
time  of  their  volitions.  As  an  illustration,  it  was  foretold  to 
Abraham,  that  his  descendants  should  go  into  Egypt  and 
should  take  up  their  residence  there;  but  such  a  prediction 
evidently  implies  a  knowledge  of  all  the  circumstances,  under 
which  this  event  should  take  place,  including  in  particular 
every  motive  and  every  volition  connected  with  it.  Such  a 
prediction  implies  a  knowledge  not  only  of  the  volitions  and 
^cts  of  the  immediate  agents  in  the  events  foretold,  but  of 
those  persons  also,  who  were  concerned  in  them  incidentally 
and  collaterally.  In  the  present  case  it  implies  a  knowledge 
of  the  jealousies  of  Joseph's  brethren,  and  of  their  perverse 
and-^vicked  conduct  in  selling  him  to  the  Ishmaelites;  it  im- 
plies a  knowledge  of  the  wants,  interests,  and  motives  of 
the  Ishmaelites  themselves  ;  not  to  mention  the  situation  and 
^inptives  of  other  individuals  and  bodies  of  mep,  "W^hiph  Yfore 


IN    THE    PRESCIENCE    OF    THE    DEITY.       165 

undoubtedly  among  the  preparatory  steps  and  means  to  the 
wonderful  events  which  followed. 

Every  one»knows,  that  events  of  the  greatest  magnitude 
are  dependent  upon  circumstances  apparently  the  most  triv- 
ial. It  is  a  remark  of  Dr.Dwight,  that  the  "motions  of  a  fly 
are  capable  of  terminating  the  most  important  human  life, 
or  of  changing  all  the  future  designs  of  a  man,  and  altering 
the  character,  circumstances,  and  destiny  of  his  descendants 
throughout  time  and  eternity."*  Now  if  these  things  are 
so,  it  cannot  for  a  moment  be  conceded,  that  God  fore- 
knows and  predicts  events,  without  a  knowledge  of  all  those 
circumstances  even  the  most  trivial,  upon  which  those  events 
may,  by  any  possibility,  be  dependent.  In  particular,  and 
above  all.  He  must  be  minutely  and  fully  acquainted  with 
the  voluntary  acts,  (meaning  by  the  phrase  the  volitions,)  of 
the  immediate  agents  in  them.  In  foreseeing  events,  in 
which  men  are  concerned,  He  must  of  course  foresee  what 
men  will  do  ;  but  it  is  inconceivable,  that  he  should  know 
this  without  knowing  what  volitions  they  will  put  forth. 

§.  98.   Of  the  reasonableness  of  the  foregoing  views. 

These  views  in  regard  to  the  extent  and  particularity  of 
God's  foreknowledge  commend  themselves  at  once  to  the 
common  sense  and  feelings  of  men.  It  would  be  of  but  little 
avail  to  extol  God  as  the  Creator  of  all  worlds  and  all  beings, 
if  he  could  not  foresee  what  would  be  the  result  of  their 
creation  ;  if  he  could  not  tell  whether  their  existence  would 
be  beneficial  or  injurious  to  themselves  or  others.  Existence 
is  known,  not  only  from  what  it  i§  in  itself,  but.  from  its  is- 
sues. ;  And  if  God  has  no  foresight  of  the  results  of  his 
works,  He  creates* IJe  knows  not  what  ;  &nd  if  .He  is  ignor 
jpant  of  his  own  works,  no  other  being  can  be  supposed  tp 
•  P)yiglit'a  Theology,  Sprm.  VI, 


166  LAWS    OF    THE    WILL    IMPLIED 

have  knowledge  of  them.  Would  such  a  God,  supposing 
Him  to  be  truly  and  fully  the  Creator  of  all  things,  be  able 
to  hold  the  reins  of  government  over  the  things  He  had 
made  ?  Would  He  not  be  continually  perplexed,  and  compell- 
ed at  every  turn  in  the  affairs  of  the  Universe  to  alter  his 
plans  ?  Certain  it  is,  that  the  doctrine,  which  denies  the  full 
and  perfect  prescience  of  the  Deity,  greatly  degrades  Him. 
It  leaves  Him  at  the  mercy,  as  it  were,  of  the  most  trifling 
circumstances.  The  movement  of  a  single  atom,  as  it  is 
possible  even  for  a  matter  so  trivial  as  that  to  alter  the  des- 
tiny of  a  world,  might  perplex  His  wisest  purposes,  and  de- 
feat his  most  benevolent  plans. 

§.  99.  Application  of  these  views  to  the  will 

But  if  it  satisfactorily  appears,  tliat  God  foreknows  all 
things,  particularly  the  volitions  of  men,  then  it  clearly  fol- 
lows, that  the  voluntary  power  has  its  laws.  The  opposite 
of  a  subjection  to  law,  as  has  already  been  remarked,  is  per- 
fect contingency  ;  and  the  very  idea  of  contingency  or  of 
contingent  action,  implies  that  it  is  something,  which  cannot 
possibly  be  foreknown.  Whatever  is  foreknown  must  be 
foreknown  to  exist  at  a  particular  time  or  place  or  under 
some  particular  circumstances  ;  but  that  action  or  event, 
which  it  is  ascertained  and  certain  will  exist  at  a  particular 
time  or  place  or  under  any  particular  and  definite  circumstan- 
ces, cannot  with  any  propriety  of  .language  be  deemed  a 
contingent  one.  Since,  therefore,  nothing,  which  is  fore- 
known, is  contingent,  and  since  the  volitions  of  men  are  ob- 
viously the  subjects  of  foreknowledge^  it  follows,  that  there 
Xnustbe  some  definite  laws  or  principles,  by  which  the  ac- 
tion of  the  voluntary  power  is  regulated.  • 


IN    THE    PRESCIENCE    OF    THE    DEITY.       167 

§.100.    The  views  of  this  chapter  in  harmony  with  the 
.     doctrine  of  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 

As  in  some  respects  closely  connected  with  the  views  of 
this  chapter,  we  may  here  with  propriety  refer  to  the  Scrip- 
ture doctrine,  that  God  through  the  influences  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  has  the  power,  and,  when  in  his  providence  he  sees 
fit,  exerts  the  power,  of  enlightening^  sanctifying,  and  guid- 
ing the  minds  of  men.  The  reader  of  the  Bihle  will  natural- 
ly be  reminded  here  of  the  Saviour's  interesting  expressions 
on  this  subject,  which  are  found  in  the  concluding  chapters  of 
the  Gospel  of  John.—"  I  will  pray  the  Father,  and  he  shall 
give  you  another  Comforter,  that  he  may  abide  with  you  for- 
ever." "  And  the  Comforter,  which  is  the  Holy  Ghost,  whom 
the  Father  will  send  in  my  name^  He  shall  teach  you  all 
things,  and  bring  all  things  to  your  remembrance,  whatso- 
ever I  have  said  unto  you."  Johnxiv,  16,  26. — "  So  they, 
being  sent  forth  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  departed  unto  Seleu- 
cia.?' — Then  Saul,  who  is  also  called  Paul,  filled  with  the 
Holy  Ghost,  set  his  eyes  upon  him,  and  said,  O  full  of  all 
subtlety,"  &c.— "  And  were  forbidden  of  the  Holy  Ghost  to  ' 
preach  the  word  in  Asia."  Acts  xui,  4,  9,  xvi,  6. — "  Which 
things  also  we  speak,  not  in  the  words  which  man's  wisdom 
teacheth,  but  which  the  Holy  Ghost  teacheth."  1  Cor.  u, 
13. — "  Holy  men  of  God  spake,  as  they  were  moved  by  the 
Holy  Ghost."  2  Pet.  i,  21. 

All  these  passages  and  others  like  them  necessarily  and 
clearly  imply,  that  there  has  not  been  an  entire  disruption  . 
and  separation,  at  least  in  all  respects,  of  man  from  his  Ma- 
ker ;  and  that  the  human  mind,  however  predisposed  to  re- 
bellion, is  circumscribed  and  checked  in  its  operations,  and 
is  held  in  subordination  to  the  all-pervading  and  transcend- 
ent control  of  the  Supreme  Intelligence. 


■■I'lf'iF-'*'^^^^--^^: 


':?^^'^?:  :/-?^  ly-.xfs.,^^., 


CHAPTER  SIXTH. 


LAWS  OF  THE  WILL  IMPLIED  IN  THE  PRESCIENCE 
OR  FORESIGHT  OF  MEN/ 


§.  101 .  Man  as  well  as  Deity  susceptible  of  foresight. 

It  may  perhaps  be  objected  by  same,  that  the  argument 
drawn  from  the  prescience  of  the  Deity  is  less  satisfactory 
than  it  would  otherwise  be,  in  consequence  of  the  unspeaka- 
ble elevation  and  incomprehensibleness  of  the  Divine  Mind. 
That  the  divine  mind  is  in  some  respects  incomprehensible 
by  man  is  true  ;  but  it  does  not  follow,  that  an  argument, 
founded  upon  what  we  know  and  can  understand  of  the  di- 
vine nature,  is  therefore  incomprehensible  or  even  obscure. 
But  whatever  weight,  whether  more  or  less,  may  be  conced- 
ed to  this  objection,  we  come  to  another  view  of  the  subject, 
analogous  indeed  to  that  of  the  last  chapter,  but  drawn  from 
a  different  source,  and  level  to  every  one's  comprehension. 
Man  himself,  restricted  and  dimmed  as  his  conceptions  un- 
doubtedly are,  has  a  prescience  of  the  future,  a  foresight  of 
what  is  to  come  to  pass,  as  well  as  the  adorable  Being  who 
made  him.  Not  in  an  equal  degree  indeed,  but  still  in  some 
degree.  And  this  fact  also  goes  to  confirm  the  position, 
which  we  are  now  examining  in  regard  to  the  will. 


PRESCIENCE    OF    MEN.  169 

§.    102.  Prescience  or  foresight  of  men  in  respect  to  their  own 
situation  and  conduct.     . 

In  the  first  place,  niau  can  foretell,  (we  do  not  say 
with  perfect  certainty,  nor  is  that  at  all  essential  to  our 
argument,)  his  own  situation,  actions,  and* success  at  some 
future  time. 

Take  a  very  simple  illustration,  A  man  proposes  to  go  to 
Bpston  or  New  York,  or  to  some  place  of  common  resort, 
no  matter  where  it  is,  for  the  purpose  of  transacting  business 
there.  The  execution  of  a  design  of  this  nature,  although  it 
is  difficult  to  mention  one  jnore.  cpmmon  and  simple,  implies 
the  putting  forth  of  hundreds  .and  thousands  of  volitions. 
And  it  is  undoubtedly  the  fact,  that  the  object  in  viewcannot 
be  effected  without  this  great  niimber  of  volitions.  And  yet 
we  pei;ceive  that  this  person  goes  forward  with  confidence, 
and  that  he  makes,  his  calculations  without  feair,  and  with  a 
Reeling  of  certainty  that  he  will  be  able  to  execute  them. 
He  evidently  proceeds  upon  the  supposition,  (although  he 
may  not  be  fully*  conscious  of  it  at  the  time,  and  may  never 
have  made  it  avinatter  of  distinct  reflection,)  that  the  opera^' 
tions  of  the  will  exist  in  reference  to  some  fixed  principles; 
and  particularly  in  connection  w^ith  motives  in  their  various 
kinds  and  degrees.  And  looking  at  his  proposed  underta- 
king with  care,  and  understanding  well  the  claims  both  of 
interest  and  duty,  which  are  involved  in- it,  he  determines  or 
wills  in  reference  to  the  generarplan  before  him,  whatever 
it  may  be,  without  even  doubting*  that*&ll  the  future  acts  of 
the  voluntary  power  will  be  accordant  with  its  requisite  de^ 
tails  ♦  and  that  in  due  season  it  will  be  brought  to  a  fulfil^ 
ment  in  all  its  parts.  But  we  may  assert  with  confidence, 
that  this  could  never  be  done,  if  volitions  were  entirely  con- 
tingent, in  other  words  if  they  were  without  laws,  For  if 
22 


170  LAWS    OF  THE    WILL    IMPLIED 

this  last  were  the  case,  he  would  be  just  as  likely  to  go  to 
Providence  as  Boston,  to  Albany  as  New  Yorkj  or  to  any 
other  place  whatever,  as  to  that  where  he  first  determined 
to  go;  and  would  be  just  as  likely  to  do  the  direct  opposite 
as  that  particular  business,  which  he  designed  to  accomplish 
at  his  first  setting  out. — And  the  views,  applicable  in  this 
particular  case,  will  apply  to  the  multiplied  occurrences  and 
duties  of  every  week  and  day.  And  they  furnish  of  them- 
selves, and  independently  of  every  other  argument  which 
may  be  brought  up,  but  ^Jttle  short  of  a  demonstration  of 
what  we  are  attempting  to  establish. 

§.    103.    Foresight  of  men  in  respect  to  the  conduct  of  others. 

In  the  second  place'  men  are  able  to  foretell,  with  a  can- 
siderable  degree  of  certainty,  the  situation,  actions,  and  suc- 
cess of  others  at  some  future  time.  This  is  so  notorious  as 
not  unfrequently  to  have  elicited  the  remark,  that  there  is  a 
certain  regular  order  in  the  conduct  of  men,  in  some  degree 
analogous  to  the  regular  course  of  things,  which  we  never 
fail  to  observe  in  the  physical  world.  Men  may.  every 
where  be  found,  who  would  no  more  hesitate  to  predict  the 
precise  conduct  of  their  neighbours  in  certain  assignable 
circumstances,  than  they  would  to  predict,  that  trees  of  a  cer- 
tain kind  would  grow  in  a  given  situation. 

Some  instances  will  illustrate  what  we  mean. — A  poor  man 
goes  to  a  rich  man  in  the  same  neighbourhood,  who  is  a  con- 
firmed and  inexorable  miser,  for  the  purpose  of  borrowing  a 
sum  of  money,  but  without  being  willing  to  give  the  custo- 
mary interest  of  twenty  per  cent,  and  unable  at  the  same 
time  to  furnish  adequate  security  for  the  principal.  Every 
body  knows,  that  the  miser  will  refuse  his  money  at  once. 
They  expect  and  predict  it  with  hardly  less  confidence  than 
they  predict,  that  a  stone  thrown  into  the  air  will  immediate- 


.   IN    THE    PRESCIENCE   OF    MEN,  HI 

ly  fall  to  the  earth's  surface. — "A  prisoner,  says  Mr.  Hume, 
who  has  neither  money  nor  interest,  discovers  the  impossibil- 
ity of  escape,  as  well  when  he  considers  the  obstinacy  of  his 
guards  as  the  walls  and  bars  with  which  he  is  surrounded  ; 
and  in  all  his  attempts  for  his  freedom,  chooses  rather  to 
work  upon  the  stone  and  iron  of  the  one  than  upon  the  inflex- 
ible nature  of  the  other."  This  remark  of  Mr.  Hume  is  an 
important  one,  and  without  question  is  essentially  correct. 
Undoubtedly  it  is  sometimes  the  case,  that  prisoners  endeav- 
our to  effect  their  escape  by  working  upon  the  passions  and 
will  of  their  guards  ;  but  in  a  vast  majority  of  cases  they 
consider  their  chance  of  escape  much  better  by  means  of  at- 
tempts made  upon  the  stone  and  iron  that  enclose  them. 
They  understand  so  well  the  connection  between  motive  and 
volition,  between  interest  and  duty  on  the  one  hand  and  the 
resolves  of  the  will  on  the  other,  that,  with  the  knowledge 
they  possess  of  the  character^  and  situation  of  those  who 
are  appointed  to  act  as  their  guards,  they  consider  their  es- 
cape by  means  of  any  collusion  with  them,  or  any  assistance 
from  that  source,  as  an  utter  impossibility.* 

§.  104.     Other  familiar  instances  of  tliis  foresight. 

But  we  will  now  proceed  to  give  some  instances  which 
are  less  remote  from  common  observation.  The  reader  may 
perhaps  recollect  some  remarks  of  Dr.  Paley,  relative  to  our 
constant  dependence  on  our  fellow  men.  ^SEvery  hour  of  our 

*  Expressions  very  similar  to  those  of  Mr.  Hume,  and  certainly  not  less 
strong  in  their  import,  are  found  in  a  Treatise,  of  Lord  Kames,  (Principles  of 
Morality,  Pt.  I,  Essay  3d  ;)  and  also  in  the  recent  work  of  Dr.Abercrombie  on 
the  Moral  Feelings,  Part  II. — "We  can  foretell,  says  the  last  mentioned  writer, 
the  respective  eiFects,^^ich  a  tale  of  distress  will  have  upon  a  cold  hearted  mi- 
seri  and  a  man  of  active  benevolence,wifli  the  same  confidence,  with  which  we 
can  predict  the  different  actions  of  an  acid  upon  an  alkali  and  upon  a  metal." 


172  LAWS    OF    THE    WILL    IMPLIED 

lived  we  trust  and  depend  upon  others ;  and  it  is  impossible 
to  stir  a  step,  or,  what  is  worse,'  to  sit  still  a  moment  with- 
out such  trust  and  dependence.  I  am  now  writing  at  my 
ease,  not  doubting,  (or  rather  never  distrusting,  and  there- 
fore never  thinking  about  it,)  but  that  the  butcher  will  send 
in  the  joint  of  meat,  which  I  ordered  ;  that  his  selrvant  will 
bring  it;  that  my  cook  will  dress  it  ;' that  my  footman  will 
serve  it  up;  and  that  I  shall  find  it  on  the  table  at  t)ne 
o'clock."*' — And  this  is  a  state  of  things,  which  is  constantly 
occurring,  not  only  in  the  mat.ter  of  the  daily  food  necessa- 
ry for  the  support  of  our  lives,  but  in  a  thousand  other  in- 
stances. The  merchant  depends  upon  his  clerks  ;  the  man- 
ufacturer depends  upon  his  numerous  operatives  of  all  clas- 
ses and  conditions;  the  farmer,  who  works  upon  a  large 
scale,  depends  upon  the  hands  of  others  as  much  as  he  does 
upon  the  labor  of  his  own  hands;  the  commander  of  a  ves- 
sel constantly  reckons  upon  the  efficient  cooperation  of  his 
sailors;  the  leader  pf  armies  relies  upon  the  moveinents  of 
vast  bodies  of  men  made  with  the  utmost  precision  in  the 
most  trying  circuhistances.  And  it  is  the  same  in  all  situa*- 
lions,  and  among  all  classes  of  men,  as  any  one,  who  will  in 
the  least  trouble  himself  to  exercise  his  recollection,  will  be 
abundantly  satisfied.  But  if  all  these  persons  operated  by 
mere  accident,  and  without  regard  to  any  fixed  principles; 
if  it  were  a  matter  of  entire  contingency  whether  they 
should  perfortn  their  engagements  or  not,  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  all  the  sources  of  enjoyment  and  even  of  existence 
would  be  destroyed,  and  the  foundations  of  society  speedi- 
ly broken  up.  .  . 

*  Moral  Philosophy,  Book  iii.  Chap.  5th. 


IN    THE    PRESCIENCE    OF    MEN.  173 

§.105.  6f  sagacity  in  the  estimate  of  individual  character. 

Wfe  will  here  introduce  to  the  consideration^  of  the  reader 
another  view  of  the  subject  of  this  chapter,  which  is  interest- 
ing in  itself,  b.esides  furnishing  an  argument  deserving  of 
some  attention. — It  is  not  uncommon  to  find  men,  who  e^- 
liibit  a  sort  of  quickness  or  sagacitj^  in  the  estiniat6  of  indi- 
vidual character,  which  is  sometimes  described  by  the  phrase,- 
a  knowledge  of  the  world,  or  of  human  nature.  ,  This  knowl- 
edge is  undoubtedly  pdssessed  by  all  persons  to  some  extent; 
but  not  unfrequently  individuals  are  found,  who  possess  it  in 
a  remarkably  high  degree.  In  some  men  it  may  be  said', 
not  only  to  assume  the  appearance,  but  even  to  approximate 
the  nature  o^  2i  prophetic  anticipation  or  foresight;  and  when 
this  is  the  case,  it  is  an  acquisition,  as  no  one  can.  be  igno^. 
rant,  of  great  power  and  value.  The  late  Mr.  Dumont  of 
Geneva  in  his  interesting  Recollections  of  Mirabeau  has  no- 
ticed this  ability  in  one  of  its  more   striking   forms.-* "  It 

was  by  the  same  instinctive  penetration,  that  Mirabeau  so 
easily  detected  the  feelingsi)f  the  assembly,  and  so  often 
embarrassed  his  opponents  by  revealing  their  secret  motives, 
and  laying  open  that  which  they  were  most  anxious  to  conceal. 
There  seemed  to  exist  no  political  enigma  which  he  could 
not  solve.  He  came  at  once  to  the  most  intimate  secrets, 
and  his  sagacity  alone  was  of  more  use  to  him  than  a  multi- 
tude of  spies  in  the  enemy's  camp.  I  used  sometimes  to  at- 
tribute the  severity  of  his  judgments  to  hatred  or  jealousy  ; 
but  it  has  been  justified  by  succeeding  events,  and  there 
was  not  a  man  of  any  consequence  in  the  assembly,  the 
sum  of  whose  conduct  did  not  correspond  with  the  opinion 
which  Mirabeau  had  formed  of  him. 

'^Independently  of  this  natural  gift,  this  intellect  of  pene- 


174  LAWS    OF    THE    WILL    IMPLIED 

tration,  his  life  had  been  so  agitated,  he  had  beeji  so  tossed 
upon  the  sea  of  human  existence,  as  he  used  to  say,  that  he 
had  acquired  vast  experience  of  the  world  and  of  men.  He 
detected,  in  a  moment,  every  shade  of  character  ;  and  to 
express  the  result  of  his- observations,  he  had  invented  a 
language  scarcely  intelligible  to  any  but  himself  ;  had  terms 
to  indicate  fractions  of  talents,  qualities,  virtues,  or  vices— ^ 

■  halves  and  quarters — and,  at  a  glance,  he  could  perceive  ev- 
ery real,  or  apparent  contradiction.  No  form  of  vanity,  dis- 
guised ambition,  or  tortu.ous  proceedihgs,  could  escape  his 
penetration  ;  but  he  could  also  perceive  good  qualities,  and 
no  man  had  a  higher  esteem  for  energetic  and  virtuous  char- 
acters."* 

It  cannot  be  necessary  to  add   any  thing  to    show,  how 
this  instance  and  others  like  it,  (for  the   political   history -of 

•every  age  brings  to  light  some  men  of  this  stamp,)  connects 
itself  with  and  illustrates  our  subject. 

§  106.  Foresight  of  the  conduct  of  masses  of  men  and  nations. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  we  are  able,  not  only  to 
predict  with  a  considerable  degree  of  certainty,  the  conduct 
of  individuals  in  any  given  circumstances,  but  we  may.  do 
the  same  of  whole  classes  of  men,  and  even  nations.  The 
speculations  in  the  public  stocks  are  very  frequently  promp- 
ted by  the  opinions,  which  those,  who  are  engaged  in  such 
speculations,  are  able  to  form  of  the  course,  which  states  and 
nations  will  take  in  some  future  time.  The  results  of  a  pop- 
ular election,  if  certain  data  are  ascertained,  are  often  con- 
sidered as  settled,  even  before  the  day  of  Vbting  has  arrived; 
although  the  conclusions  thus  formed  are  lyjised  in  part  upon 
opinions  relative  to  whole  classes  of  men,  who  differ  from 
each  other  in  their  callings,  interests,  and  prejudices. 
*  Dumont's  Recollections  of  Mirabeau,  Chap.  XIV. 


IN    THE    PRESCIENCE    OF    MEN.  I75 

<rhe  amount  of  property,  invested  in  commerce',  with  the 
annual  returns  of  revenue  to  the  government,  is  every  year 
estimated  in  advance,  and  with  very  considerable  accuracy, 
by  the  treasury  departments  of  all  civilized  nations. 

If  a  person  will  take  the  pains  to  examine  the  total  re- 
ceipts of  the  Post  Office  Department  of  the  U.  S.  in  the  suc- 
cessive years  from  .1790  to  1830,  he  will  notice,  with  but 
few  exceptions  and  those  easily  explained,  a  gradual  'and 
very  regular  increase  in  the  amount  ;  the  increase  being 
such  as  would  naturally  be  expected  from  the  augmentation 
*  of  the  wealth  and  population  of  the  country.  We  presume 
it  will  be  found  also  on  inquiry,  th3t  the  number  of  letters, 
not  taken  from  the  subordinate  offices  and  returned  from  time 
to  time  to  the  General  Post  Office,  or  dead  letters  so  call- 
ed,is  nearly  the  same  from  year  to  year,  or  varying  so  as  to 
correspond  to  the  variation  in  the  number  of  letters  received. 
It  is  stated  by  Laplace,  that  the  number  of  dead  letters  re- 
maining at  and  returned  from  other  offices  to  the  Post  Office 
at  Paris  is,  in  ordinary  times,  nearly  the  same  from  one 
year  to  another.  The  same  thing  has  been  stated  of  the 
Dead  Letter  Office,' as  it  is  called,  in  London.*  All  these 
things  conclusively  evince,  that  the  actions  of  men,  whether 
considered  individually  or  in  masses,*  are  not  left  to  chance 
or  mere  accident. 

But  a  field  of  investigation  opens  itself  here  too  wide  to 
be  pursued.  We  shall,  therefore,  leave  it  to  the  reflections 
of  the  reader,  with  a  mere  additional  reference  to  a  recent 
French  writer,  who  has  taken  a  view  of  human  nature,  novel 
indeed  and  painful,  but  highly  satisfactory  in  its  connection 
with  the  matter  before  us.  It  is  proper  to  observe  that  we 
are  indebted  for  the  statements  of  this  writer  to  the  .public 
prints,  having  never  been  able  to  obtain  sight  of  his  work  ; 
♦  Edin,  R6v.  Vol.  xxiii. 


176  PRESCIENCE    OF    MEN. 

but  with  nb  reason  to  suppose  that  they  are  otherwise  Aan 
correctly  rep9rted.  He  has  made  an  estimate  of  the  tenden- 
cy to  crime  in  the  human  race  at  different  periods  of  life. 

§.  107.  Proof  from  the  regularity  observable  in  the' commission  of 

crime.  •  ^ 

"Such,  says  the  writer  referred  to,  is  the  certainty  with 
which  this  tendency  prevails,  that  in  France  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  one  may  predict  at  the  beginning  of  the  year, 
what  will  be  the  number  of  persons  c6ndemned  to  death,  the 
number  condemned  to  hard  labour  for  life  or  for  a  term  of 
yearfe,  the  number  condeJnned  to  solitary  imprisonment,  &c, 
with  more  c&riainiy  than  the  Treasury  Department  can  make  its 
annual  estimate  of  the  income  and  expenditures  of  the  nation. 

"  In  France,  for  every  4,460  inhabitants,  one  is  annually 
arraigned  at  a  criminal  tribunal.  Of  the  persons  thus  ar- 
raigned, one  out  of  every  four  is  accused  of  a  crime  against 
persons,  the  others  of  crimes  against  property.  Out  of  a 
hundred  accused,  sixty-one  are  regularly  found  guilty^  The 
number  of  criminal  homicides  would  s6em  to  admit  of  the 
greatest  variation,  as  in  many  cases  they  are  the  conse- 
quence of  quarrels  arising  from  accidental  causes.  Yet  the 
number  of  murders  in  France  is  nearly  the  same  every  year. 
In  1826,  it  was  241 ;  in  1827,  it  was  234;  in  1828,  it  amoun- 
ted to  227;  and  in  1829,  to  231.  The  instruments  by  which 
murders  were  effected,  were,  in  all  these  years,  nearly  in  the 
same  proportion.  About  one  fifth  of  these  mur<lers  were 
committed  with  the  musket,  and  about  one  sixth  or  .seventh 
with  the  knife." 


CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 


LAWS  OF  THE  WILL  IMPLIED .  IN  THE  SCIENCES 
'    *   /.    RELATING ^OHU>IAN  CONDUCT. 


.  ^  §.  103.   Of  the  object  of  sciences  relating  ta  human  conduct 

Perhaps  enough  lias  already  been  said  on  this  branch  of 
our  subject.     And  we   should  certainly  not  be   disposed  to 

'run  the  hazard  of  entirely  wearying  the  reader,  were  it  not, 
thai  no  problem  in  respect  to  thctiuman'  mind  has  been  more 

'perplexed  with  difficulties  than  the  one  under  consideration; 
and  there  are  but  few  and  perhaps  .none,  which  directly  or 
indirectly  invOly^ '  more  important  consequences.  In  the 
hope  therefore  of  being'still  patiently  borne  with,  we  invite 
the  reader's  attention  to  another  view  of  this  great  subject, 
which  opens  a  wide  field  of  illustration  ;  far  too  wide  un- 
dpiibtedjy  to  be 'fully  explored  in  th^  brief  remarks,  which 
we  feel  at  liberty  to  make.  All  sciences,  which  relate  to 
the  conduct  of  men,  (ejther  what  it  is  at  present,  what  it  has 

•tfefen,  what  it  will  be  in  future,' or  what  ^  ought  to.be,)  will 
b6  found  on  examination  to  involve",  in  a  greater  .or  less  de- 
gree, and  to  proceed  upon  the   great    fundamental   truth, 

tbj^t  the  voluntary  power  in  man  is  regulated  by  some  fixed 
•         2S  ^ 


178  LAWS  &c.  IMPLIED    IxN    SCIENCES 

principles.  Of  the  class  of  sciences,  which  are  now  referred 
to,  may  be  mentioned  that  of  History,  of  Politics,  of  War, 
of  Commerce,  of  Moral  Philosophy,  of  Oratory,  Municipal 
Law,  the  Law  of  Nations,  Crimes  and  Punishments  in- 
cluding Prison  Discipline^  Political  Economy,  Education, 
Christian  Ethics,  &c.  All  these  sciences  relate,,  not  exclu- 
sively but  in  some  degree  more  or  less,  to  human  conduct. 
They  tell  us,  what  men  have  done  under  certain  circumstan- 
ces in  times  past,  what  they  are  expected  to  do  in  time  to 
come,  and  what  it  is  their  duty  to  do.  .But  certainly  noth- 
ing could  be  imagined  more  unmeaning  and  nugatory  than 
the  various  principles  they  lay  down,  relative  to  the  acts  of  ^ 
men  both  past  and  prospective,  if  those  acts  aje  contingent 
to  the  extent,  (whicb^they  must  be  if  they  are^contingent  at 
all,)  of  being  placed  beyond  the  reach.of  probable  calcula- 
tions. '      ■*•  •  ♦  •     '        ■       . 

§.  109.  Illustration  of  the  subject  jrom  Political  Philosophy,- 

But  as  this  topic  may  not  be  fully  apprehended  by  means' 
of  abstract  statements  alone,  we  will  now  proceed  to  give 
facts  and  instances,  which  will  indicate  more  clearly  what 
we  mean ;  premising  however,  that  we  do  not  intend, 
(nor  is  it  at  all  necessa:ry,)  to  extend  these  illustrations  to 
every  possible  department  of  science  where  human  action  is 
involved.  Our  object  is  merely  to  njake  what  has  been 
said  clear  to  be  understood,  and  td  place  .it.  beyond  doubt. 
The  statement,  which 'has  been  made,  is  true,  in  the  firit 
place,  of  Political  Philosophy.  A  single  maxim  in  politfcs 
will  show  that  it  is  so. — It  is  a  settled  principle  in  that  de- 
partment of  science,  so  far  as  we  have  beenable  to  notice, 
that  there  ought  to  be  a  separation,  to  a  great  extent  at  least, 
of  the  Legislative,  Executive,  and  Tudicial  departments  *of 
government.    And  if  we  ask  for  the  reason  or  the  occasion 


RELATING    TO    HUMAN    CONDUCT.  179 

of  this  principle,  we  find  the  writers  on  Politics  essentially- 
agreeing  in  the  answer,  that  the  accumulation  of  these  dif- 
ferent offices  in  the  same  person  is  found  to  be  universally- 
followed  by  a  course  of  conduct,  (it  is  perhaps  not  necessa- 
ry to  our  argument  to  specify  what  that  course  of  conduct 
is,)  injurious  to  the  interests  of  the  country.  Now  this 
statement  obviously  implies,  that  men,  when  they  are  placed 
in  given  situations,  will  exhibit  almost  without  exception  a 
given  course  of  conduct,  and  that  from  a  knowledge  of  their 
situation  we  can  infer  with  a  great  degree  of  certainty  what 
that  course  will  be  ;  a  state  of  things  which  is  utterly  un- 
true and  inconceivable,  except  on  the  ground,  that  the  ac- 
tions of  men  are  regulated  on  some  uniform  and  permanent 
principles. 

§.  1 10.  Agreement  among  writers  who  in  other  respects  differ. 

Political  Philosophy  has  exhibited  almost  evei^y  possible  va- 
riety of  phasisj  and  asserted  and  maintained  almost  every  pos- 
sible variety  of  sentiment,  according  as  the  waiters  have  been 
the  subjects  of  free  or  despotic  states,  or  have  been  the  advo- 
cates or  opposers  of  a  particular  course  of  policy.  The  read- 
er will  at  once  call  to  mind  the  Republic  and  other  political 
treatises  of  Plato,  the  De  Republica  of  Cicero,  the  Prince  of 
Machiavel,  the  Oceana  of  Harrington,,  the  Leviathan  of 
HobbeSjthe  Social  Contract  of  Rousseau,  the  Spirit  of  Laws 
of  Montesquieu,  the  Discourses  of  Sydney,  the  .Federalist  ; 
not  to  mention  a  multitude  of  other  treatises  of  greater  or 
less  celebrity.  It  may  be  the  case,  that  not  one  of  these  va- 
rious treatises  fully^  agrees  with  another  ;  and  it  is  very  cer- 
^tain,  that  in  many  tilings  they  are  very  variant  and  cdft flic t- 
ibg  ;  but  still  there  is  in  all  at  the  bottom  this  fundamental 
principle,  that  human  conduct,  in  its  almost  endles  variety  of 
development,  may  be  referred  to  principles,  inherent  in  the 


180  LAWS  &c.  IMPLIED    IN    SCIENCES 

mental  constitution  and  of  universal  application.  In  this  par- 
ticular, and  so  far  as  has  now  been  asserted,  writers  are  in 
harmony,  who  in  other  things  are  infinitely  apart  ;  the  sla- 
vish Hobhes  with  the  patriotic  Sydney,  and  Machiavel  and 
Necker  with  Montesquieu  and  Madison. 

It  certainly  cannot  be  necessary  to  bring  instances  in 
proof  of  what  will  not  be  likely  to  be  controverted.  But 
perhaps  a  single  remark  of  the  author  of  the*  Oceana  may 
not  be  inappropriate  here.  The  circumstance  of  that'writer's 
being  much  in  his  study  and  much  .retired  from  the  *world 
"was  attributed  by  his  friends  to  melancholy  or  discontent. 
Harrington,  however,  convinced  them  of  their  mistake,  and 
showed  them  how  he  had  employed  himself,  by  exhibiting  a 
copy  of  his  Oceana  ;  at  the  same  time  making  a  remark 
highly  deserving  of  attention.  "He  observed*,  that  ever 
since  he  began  to  examine  .things  seriously,  he  had;appli- 
ed  himself  chiefly  to  the  study  of  civil  government,  as  of  the 
first  importance  to  the  peace  and  happiness  .of  mankind  ; 
that  he  had  succeeded,  at  least  to  his  own  satisfaction  ;  be- 
ing convinced,  that  no  government  is  of  sd  accidental  or  arbi- 
trary an  institution,  as  people  are  wont  to' imagine,  there  being  in 
societies  natural  causes  producing  their  necessary  effects,  as  well 
€LS  in  the  earth  or  in  the  air.^^*  '    ' 

§.  111.  Illustration  of  the  subject  from  History. 

The  statement,  which  has  be6n  made,  is  illustrated  fur- 
thcr  by  the -science,  (or  art,  if  one  chooses  so  to  call  it,)  of 
History.  It  is  not  only  the  business  of  the  historian  to' col- 
lect and  arrange  facts,  but  also  to  trace  them  to  their  caXises, 
and  to  explain  how  they  happened.  And  this  latter  branch 
of  his  calling  is  generally  considered  to  Be  more  interesting* 

•  Roland's  Life  of  Harrington,  §.  11,*  and  Burnet's  English  Prose  Wri- 
ters, Vol.  Ill,  p.  25,  ArJ.  Harrington. 


RELATING    TO    HUMAN    CONDUCT.  181 

and  important  than  tbe  other.  The  human  mind,  (just  as  it 
"was  four  thousand  years  ago  and  just  as  it  is  now,)  lies 
beneath  the- naked  facts  of  history,  and  furn.ishes.  the  only 
skey  to.  their  satisfactory  explanation.  It  is  to  history  what 
the  soul  is  to  the  body,  quickening  and  vivifying  what  must 
otherwise  bq  looked  upon  as  an  inert  and  lifeless  mass,  TJie 
historian  accordingly,  in  endeavoring  to  make  such  explana- 
tions as  *his  narration  seems  to  demand,  always  takes  it  for 
granted,  that  every  thing  which  takes  place  has  its  adequate 
cause  ;  th'at  there  are,  in  all  cases  of  human  action,  impulses 
and  springs  of  movement,  which  always  exist,  even  if  they 
are  not  alwaj^s  discoverable.  It  is  chiefly  in  the  develope- 
ment  cf  these  various,  and  often  remote  springs  of  move- 
ment, that  he  deeply  interests  the  attention  of  the  reader, 
and  amply  rewards  him  for  his  .trouble  \u  following  his  nar-. 
ration.  •.;".. 

§.  112.    Illustration  of  the  subject  from  Political  Economy.. 

.  T^e,  science  of  Political  Economy  also,  which  may  justly 
be  included  among  those  departments  of  knowledge  that  have 
special  relation  to  human  conduct,  bases  its  results  as  mirch 
upon  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind,  as  it  does. upon 
lands,  machinery,  rents,  manufactures,  capital,  money,  and 
whatever  else  comes  within  the  range  of  its  inquiries.  The 
constitution  of  the  mind  is  so  important  an  element  that,  if 
it  wefe  stricken  out  from  his  cakulations,it  cannot  be  doubted 
that  the  truly  learned  speculations  and  conclusions  of  t:ie  po- 
litical economist  woul^  be  wholly  without  avail.  Having 
no  foundation  iii  :the  histqry  of  the  past,  and  no  .application 
in  the.  circumstances  of  the  present,  they  would,  in  that  case, 
be  irretrievably  unprofitable  and  futile.  Some  mope  def- 
inite and  explicit  statements  will  sustain  this  general  view. 
— It  is  a  geneml  principle  in  this  department  df. science,  that 


182  LAWS  &c.  IMPLIED    IN    SCIENCES 

in  every  country  the  cultivation  of  the.  soil  will,  under  the 
guidance  of  personal  interest  and  enterprise,  be  carried  to 
the  extreme  limit  of  its  being  profitable.  But  if  we  exam- 
ine this  principle,  we  shall  find-. it  to  be  a  m^re  statement, 
drawn  from  what  has  taken  place  in  times  past,,  of  what 
meii  will  be  likely  to  do  in  given  situations.  It  is  in  fact  a 
statement  relative  to  the  will,  or  if  it  be  preferred  to  the  act 
of  willing  or  volition  in  its  connection  with  certain  motives 
to,  action;  and  the  whole  value  of  the  principle  depends  upon 
its  being  such.  , 

It  is  the  same  with  many  other  principles  of  •political 
economy,  some  of  which  are  matters  of  every  day's  experi- 
ence and  verification,  such  as  the  following. — The  niimber 
of  purchasers  of  articles  of  the  [same  kind  will  depend  in 
part  upon  the  value  of  the  articles  to  be  sold  as  compared 
with  each  other  ;  and  those  articles,  virhich  are  in  the  best 
condition  and  of  the  greatest  comparative  value,  will  com- 
mand, other  things  being  equal,  the  earliest  sale.  What  is 
this  principle  but  a  statement  of  what  men,  under  the  govern- 
ment of  the  original  impulses  of  their  nature,  will  infallibly 
do  'in  certain  circumstances,  which  afe  capable  of  being 
pointed  out  ? 

It  is  sometimes  the  case,  that  the  principles  of  political" 
economy  are  stated  in  such  •  an  abstract  form  as  entirely  to 
exclude  even  an  allusion  to  any  human  agency  ;  and  of 
course  may  sometimes  leave  the  impression,  that  the  alledged 
results  take  place  without  the  intervention  of  such  agency. 
"When,  for  instance,  it  is  said,  that  the  opening  for  cultivation 
of  large  tracts  of  fertile  wild  lands  will  reduce  in  yalue  soils 
of  an  inferior  grade  in  the  neighborhoodof  the  before  uncul- 
tivated tracts,  nothing  is  said  or  expressly  intimated  of  human 
agency  and  of  the  operations  of  the  human  mind  ;  and  still 
it  is  that  agency  and  those  operations,  which  give  its  whole 

t 


RELATING    TO    HUMAN     CONDYjCT,  183 

truth  to  the  principle.  So  that  we  may  assert  with  undoubted 
confidence,  that  mental  philosophy,  so  far  as  it  relates  to 
the  principles  and  tendencies  of  human  action,  is  a  promin- 
ent .basis  of  Political  Economy  as  well  as  of  Politics  ;  &nd  in 
particular  that  'department  of  it,  which  is  embraced  in  the 
philosophy  of  the  operations  of  the  Will.  In  a  word,  the 
science  of  political  economy  every  where  recognizes  the 
great  tfuth,  that  the  voluntary  power  in  man  will  infallibly 
J)e  brought  to  certain  results  and  issues  under  certain  ?is- 
signable  circumstances.  '     *       . 

§  113.  Reference  to.  Municipallaw. 

We  may  apply  these  views  to  Municipallaw.;  using  the 
,  ptiras'e  as  a  convenient  designation  in  the  present  case  for 
whatever  is  not  included  undfer  the  phrase  International  law ; 
in  other. words  for  those  laws,  wljich  are  itftended  to  operate 
upon  individuals  rather  than  upon 'masses  of  men.  The 
object  of  all  these  laws  is  either  to  secure  action  in  individ- 
uals where  action  would  be  desirable;  or  to  prevent  it, 
where  it  would  b§  wrong,  Now  if  we  examine  laws  of  this 
description  with  suitable  attention,  what  do  we  find  to  be 
the  fact  ^  We  shall  of  course  find  them  attended  w;ith  a  defi- 
nite .penalty,  differing,  in  that  respect  from  International 
law  ;  and  we  shall  also  find,  that  the  penalty  is  adjusted  in 
accordance  with  certain  definite  views  of  human  character. 
That  is  to  say;  pains  will  be  tak0nta  frame  the  penalty  more 
or  less  in  accordance  with  an  almost  infallible  foresight,which 
the  law-makers  have,  of  the  effect  which  it  will  produce  upon 
those  to  whom  it  is  applicable.  In  some  cases  the  penalty 
^  will  be  small  and  light  ;  in  other  cases  it  will  be  sipvere  ;  and 
in  all  it  will  be  adjusted,  (and  ill  nine  out  often  the  result 
will  show,  the  wisdom  of  the  arrangement,)  in  conformity 
with  a  sort  of  prophetic  knowledge  of  the  course  of  human 


184  LA\^S  &c.  IMPLIED    IN    SCIENCES 

• 
action."     In  truth,  it  is  the  prescience'  or  foresight  of  what' 

men  will  do  in  given  situations,  which  perhaps  more  than 
anything  else  renders  one  man  a  jnore  practical  •and  «afe 
legislator  than  another.  Certain  it  is,  if  there  were  -not  a 
course  of  human  action,  which  is  truly  the  subject. of  knowl- 
edge and  which  can  be  made  a  matter  of  highly  probable 
calculation,  the  business  of  a  legislator  would  be  a  very 
nugatory  one.  ' 

§.  114.  Remarks  ofJBeccaria  on  mildness  of  punishments. 

As  the  various  laws,  which  are  made  for  the  individuals 
of  a  community,  are  nec.essarily  attended  with  a  penalty,  it 
of  course  fqllows,  that  the  science  of  legislation  involves  the 
doctrine  of  Crimes  and  Punishments.  And- we  accor'din^ly 
introduce  here  in  conformation  of  the  remarks  of  the  prece- 
ding section,  a  passage,  remarkable  for  its  philosophical  sa- 
gacity ;  at  the  same  time  taking  the  liberty  to  ask  what 
propriety,  wisdom,  or  even  common  sense  it  would  indicate, 
except  on  the  admission  of  the  principle  we  are  contending 
for. — "Crimes  are  more-  eifa^tu^lly  prevented  by  the  cer- 
iainty,  than  the  severity  of  punishment.  Hence.,  in  a  magis- 
trate, the  necessity  of  vigilance,  and  in  a  judge,  of  implaca- 
bility, which,  that  it  may  become  a  useful  virtue,  should  be 
joined  to  a  mild  legislation.  The  certainty  of  a  small  punish- 
ment will  make  a  stronger  impression,  than  the  fear  of  one 
more, severe,  if  attended  \vith  the  hopes  of  escaping  ;  for  it 
is  the  nature  of  mankind  to  bp  terrified  at  i\ie  approach  of 
the  smaMest  inevitable  evil,  whilst  hope,  the  best  gift  of 
heaven,  hath' the  power  of  dispelling  the  apprehension  of  a 
greater  ;  ^especially  if  feupported  by  examples  of  impunity^ 
which  weakness  or- avarice 'too  frequently  afiford. 

*^If  punishnientsbe  very  severe,  men  are  naturally  led  to 
the  perpetfation  of  other  crimes,  to  avoid  the  punishment 


RELATING    TO    HUMAN    CONDUCT.  185 

due  to  the  first.  The  countries  and  times  most,  notorious 
for.  severity  of  punishments,  were  always  those  in  jvhich 
the  most  bloody  and  inhuman  actions,,  and  the  most 
atrocious  crimes  were  committed  ;  for  the  hand  of  the 
legislator  and  the  assassin  were  directed  by  the  same 
spirit  of  ferocity  ;  -which,  on  the  throne,  dictated  laws  of 
iron  to  slaves  and  savages,  and,  in  private,  instigated  the 
subject  to  sacrifice  one  tyrant,  to  make  room  for  another. 

* 'In  proportion  as  punishments  become  more  cr^iel,  the 
minds  of  men,  as  a  fluid  rises  to  the  same  height  as  that 
which  surrounds  it,  grow  hardened  ind  insensible;  and  the 
force  of  the  passions  still  continuing,  in  the  space  of  an  hun- 
dred years,  the  loheel  terrifies  no  more  than  formerly  the  pris- 
on.  That  a,  punishment  may  produce  the  effect  required,  it 
is  suf&cient  that  the  evil  it  occasions  should  exceed  the  good 
expected  from  the  crime;  including  in' the  calculation  the 
tertainty  of  the  puijishment,  and  the  privation  of  the  expec- 
ted advantage.  All  severity  beyon^his  ;s  superfluous,  and 
therefore  tyrannical."* 

.  §.   115.  Reference  to  the  science  of  Education.     * 

Education  too  m^y  be  denominated  a  science.  And  per- 
haps it  would  not  be  .too  much  to  say,  that  in  importance  it 
will  ^ank  with  any  other  purely  earthly  science  whatever" ; 
although  it  must  b.e  admitted,  it  is  a  department  of  human 
knowledge,  which,  having  in  all  ages  of  the  world  failed  of 
its  due  share  of  attention,  has  never  been  wrought  into  that 
.symmetry  of  parts  arid  fulness  of  developement,  of  which  it 
is  susceptible.  Education,  considered  a^  a  science  having 
its  appropriate  principles  and  rules,  receives  and  *  acknowl- 
edges the  truth  and  is  to  a  great  extent  balsed  upon  it,  that 
the  action  of  the  .voluntary  power  is  not  independent  of  law. 
It  is  true,  that  so  far  as  education  relates  to  the  intellectual 
♦Beccaria  on  Crimes  and  Punishments^  Chap.  xxtii» 

24 


1S6  LAWS  &c.  IMPLIED    IN    SCIENCES 

part  or  understanding  alone,  it  is  -possible  this  remark 
may  tiot  hold  good.  But  we  are  silre,  that  no  one  who  has 
any  correct  idea  of  this  noble  departmeiit  of  knowledge,would 
consent  to  see  it  subjected  to  such  an  inglorious  limitation. 
If  we  rightly  understand  it,  it,  is  the  object  of  education 
suitably  to  train  up  the  affections  and  the  will,  as  well  as  the 
intellect.  "I  imagine,  (says  Mr.  Locke  in  his  valuable 
Thought's  concerning  Education,)  you  would  think  him  'a 
very  foolish  fellow,  that  should  not  value  a  virtuous  or  a 
wise  man,  infinitely  before  a  great  scholar."  'It  is^no  small 
mistake  to  regard  the  soul  a-s  a  mere  storehouse,  created  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  taking  in  accumulatedmasses  of  learning. 
It  is  also  a  principle  of  feeling  an^  activity;  and  -v^e  hazard 
little  in  saying,  that  man  is  even  more  iriteresti*ng  as  a  sen- 
tient and  active  being,  as  formed  for  emotion  and  conduct, 
than  as  a  mere  percipient.  So  far,  therefore,  as  education 
relates  to  the  govemin£nt  of  the  feelings, to  correct  andenno- 
bling  sentiments  of  virtue,  to  propriety  of  manners,  to  the 
extirpation  of  bad  habits  and  the  formation  of  different  ones, 
to  all  those  numberless  matters  that  involve  the  regulation 
either  of  feeling  or  action,  we  may  confidently  assert,  that  it 
pfoceeds  upon  the  position  which  has*  been  maintained,  viz, 
that  the  action  of  the  voluntary  power  Is  not  independent  of 
law.  ^         .       %   4  . 

In  these  remarks  we  have  had  particular  reference  jto  the 
prospective  bearing  of  education,  its  influence  in  forming 
the  future  character,  without  including  in  them  those  pre- 
cepts of  education,  numerous  and  important  as  they  are, 
which  relate  to  the  immediate  government  of  persons,  who 
in  youth  are  actually  the  subjects  of  a  process  of  instruction. 
Youth  are  to  be  .  governed  now,  in  order  to  be  enabled  to  " 
receive  that  instruction,  which  is  necessary  to  aid  them  in 
the  government  of  themselves  hereafter.  What  has  been 
said  will  apply  peculiarly 'and  emphatically  to  all  precepts 


RELATING    TO    HUMAN    CONDUCT.  187 

and  rules  of  education,  having  that  object  in  view.  All 
such  precepts  are  designed  to  restrict,  impel,  or  otherwise 
regulate  the  action  of  the  pupils;  and, so  far  «is  they  are  de- 
signed to  regulate  the  action,  they  are  of  course  designed 
to  regulate  the  will;  an  object,  which  necessarily  implies 
that  the  will  is  truly,  in  '  some  way  or  other,  suscepti- 
ble of  being  approached  by  an  influence  extraneous  to 
itself. 

§.  116.  Illustration  of 'the  subject' from  Oratory, 

The  science  or  art  of  Oratory  involves,  as  a  fundamental 
principle,  the  truth-  under  consideration.  .  By  universal  con- 
sent, it  is  emphatically  and  appropriately  the  business  of  the 
orator  to  move  masses  of  men.  But  large  bodieg  or  masses 
of  men  are  never  moved  in  a  consentaneous  course  of  action, 
except  by  means  of  a  consentaneous  volition.  The  produc- 
tion of  such  consent  or  unanimity,  or  even  an  approach  to 
unanimity,  in  those  daily  and  numberless  cases,  where  it  is 
necessary,  is  obviously  impossible,  except  on  the  supposi- 
tio.n  of  the  will's  being  subject  to  law.  There  must  be  some 
point  of  approach  to  the  voluntary  power  ;  some  known  and 
•definite  lines  of  communication  ;  some  means,  by  which  the 
will^  of  men,  however  diverse  and  conflicting,  inay  be  in- 
duced to  operate  in  the  same  manner.  Without  such  meth- 
ods of  producing  un.aliimity,  (which  of  course  implies  that 
the  vill  has  its  laws,)  it  would  be  altogether  in  vain  for 
one  man  to  address  another  with  the  purpose  of  directing 
"his  action  ; .  and  all  legislative  and  other  assemblies,  which 
propose  to  bring  about  afction-,  as  well  as  a  conviction  of  the 
understanding,  would  be  useless . 

But  these  results,  which  would  evidently  follow  from  the 
exemption  of  the  Will  from  all  law,  are  utterly  at  variance 
with  what  we  constantly  observQ.     Powers,  consonant  to 


188  LAWS  &o.  IMPLIED    IN    SCIENCES 

and  operating  in  accordance  with  the  nature  of  the  mind,  are 
made  by  the  orator  to  bear  upon  the  will,  that  great  main- 
spring of  human  conduct ;  and  we  constantly  see  masses  of 
men,  of  every  assignable  dimension  and  under  every  assign- 
able circumstance,  moving  forward  with  harmonious  action, 
and  with  harmonious  issues.  It  is  impossible  satisfacto- 
rily to  account  for  this  congregatied  and  unanimous  move- 
ment of  wills  on  the  ground  of  a  mere  fortuitous  concur- 
rence, a  purely  accidental  concentration  on  a  given  object. 
Such* an  explanation  is  asjinsatisfactory  here  as  it, is  when 
brought  forward  in  application  to  the  origin  and. support  of 
the  material  universe.  It  is  not  only  at  variance  with  the 
common  sense  of  mankind,  but  violates  the  very  elements 
and  first  principles  of  human  belief  and  knowledge. 

§,  117.  Laws  of  the  willimplied  in  Christian  Ethics. 

Among  other  departments  of  science,  susceptible  of  being 
adduced  in  illustration  of  the.  doctrine  before  us,  is,  that  of 
Christian  Ethics.  This  department  .of  science,  (for  such* 
we  have  no  hesitancy  in  saying  it  may  justly  be  team- 
ed,) which  has  its  origin  directly  from  heaven,  and  has  been 
illustrated  by  the  powerful  pens  of  an  Augustine,  a  Fene- 
lon,  a  Jeremy  Taylor,  and  the  author,  whoever  he  may  .have 
been,  of  the  justly  celebrated  Imitation  of  Christ,  is  undoubt- 
edly more  important  than  any  other,  or  all  others  put  togeth- 
er. It  inculcates  the  due  subordination  of  the  appetites,  the 
regulation  of  the  propens'itiQS,  the  developement  of  the  kind- 
ly affections  and  the  suppression  of  all  others,  supreme  love 
to  Jehovah,  a  love  to  our  fello\v-men  coincident  with  that  to 
ourselves,  gratitude  for  mercies  and  entire  resignation  in 
suffering,  a  sanctified  understanding,  a  heart  glowing  with 
divine  love,  a  will  obe'dient  to,  and  revolving,  if  we  may  be 
allowed  the  expression,  iia  the  will  of  Christ.     As  it  con- 


RELATINQ    TO    HUMAN    CONDUCT.  189 

templates  effects  far  above  those,  embraced  in  the  plan  of 
any  earthly  system  «f  mental  renovation,  so  it  furnishes  mo- 
tives, proportioned,  both  in  their  number  and  their  transceil- 
dent  nature,  to  the  effects-  It  holds  up  before  us,  not  only 
Various  supports  and  consolations  connected  with  the  pres- 
ent lif%  but  presents  to  oijr  view,  what  no  other  system  of 
morals  or  religion  is  ^ble  to  do,  the  Son  of  God,  persecuted 
and  ignominously  crucified.  It  also  unveils  the  dark  abyss  of 
the  future,  and  reveals  the  universe  assembled  and  the  judge 
enthroned  ;  even»Him  who  was  before  crucified,  but  now, 
risen  and  exalted,  is  clothed  with  majesty  and  surrounded 
with  his  mighty  angels.  But  wonderful  and  transcendent  as 
it  is,  compared  with  any  other  moral  or  religious  system,  it 
goes  throughout,  in  all  the  appeals  it  makes  and  all  the  mo- 
tives it  presents,  whether  they  are  drawn  from  the  day  of 
final  retribution.,  or  the  unclouded  perfections  of  the  God- 
head^ or  the  mingled  mercies  and  terrors  of  the  Gross,  it 
goes  throughout  on  the  supposition,that  the  crperatibns  of  the 
mind  of  ma^j  are  not  left  to  a  blind  chance,  but  are  suscepti- 
ble of  being  reached,  influenced,  renovated,  and*  Regulated  ; 
and,  in  full  consistency  with  their  innate  power  and  liberty, 
of  being  brought  into  subjection  to.  the  dominion  of  that  Al- 
.  mighty  Being,  from  whom  all  created  minds  have  .t^eir  ori- 
gin.. So  that  we  may  confidently  assert,  that  this  science  of 
sciences  sets  its  seal  of  approbation  upon  the  doctrine  that  • 
the  will  has  its  laws;  and  that  its  own  operations,  searching 
and  effective  as  they  are  and  tending 'to  the  entire  renova- 
tion of  the  inner  man,  are  conducted  in  consistency  with 
those  laws.      •  •  ,  •   •    .  • 

§..118.  Similar  views  applicablein  other  sciences. 

•  In  thia^  chapter  as  in  some  others  we  are  under  the  neces- 
•  sily  of  leaving  much  to  the  re^ie'ctions  of  the  reader.    Let 

,.-    '    •   "    ■   •     ■^*-  .  ■: 


190 


LAWS  &c.  IMPLIED    IN    SCIENCES. 


him  apply  the  suggestions,  which  htive  heen  made,  to  the 
.  other  departments  of  knowledge,  mentioned  in  the  first  sec- 
tion of  the  chapter'and  even  further,  for  they  will  apply  to 
many  of  the  forms  of  literature,  such  as  tragedy,  romance, 
&c.  And  he  will  be  fully  persuaded  that  the  principle,  for 
which*  we  are  Qontending,  is  a  corner  stone,  which  cannot  be 
removed  without  undermining  and  Endangering  them  all. 
And  certainly  it  would  be  exceeding  presumption  to  deny, 
that  we  find  here  decisive  circumstances  in  proof  of  its  be- 
ing a  w?ll-founded  one.  *  .    * .  • 


•  •. 


CHAPTER  EIGHTH, 


OTHER*  PROOFS  OF  LAWS  OF  THE  WILL. 


,    §.     1 19.     The  subjection  of  the  will  to  Jaw.  confirmed  hy 


consciousness. 


We  propose  in  this  chapter  to  brhig  together  a  number  of 
miscellaneous  proofs,  which  may  add  something  to  those, 
which  have  already  been  brought  forward. — ^ Among  other 
proofs,  which  have  not  hitherto  been  particularly  adverted 
to,  we  may  make  the  remark  here,  that  the  doctrine  of  the; 
will's  being  subject  to  law  is  confirmed  by  our*  Conscious- 
ness. Certain  it  is,  we  all  of*u«  hkve  the  testimony  of  our 
intvard  experience,  that  there  is  a  relation,  whatever  may  be 
its  nature  and  however  difficult  df  explanation,  between  vo- 
lition and  motives.  As  a  general  statement,  (for  we  do  not, 
here  speak  of  those  actions,  which  in  consequence  of  being 
frequently  repeated  have  become  almost  mechanical,  nor  of 
those  which  are  entirely  trifling  and  insignificant,),  no  man 
is  coiiscious  of  a  volition,  who  is  not  also  conscious  of  a 
knowledge  of  some'antecedent,  which  constitutes  the  occa- 
sion, motive,  or  cause  of  the  subsequent  volition.    And  if  so, . 


102  •        OTHER    P.ROOFS    OE 

then  the  testimony  of  consciousness  may  properly  be  addu- 
ced in  support  of  the  general  position,  which  we  are  endeav- 
ouring to  maintain. 

§.  120.   Confirmed  by  the  fact  of  the  wilVs  not  being  a  subject 
but  an  attribute. 

That  the  will  has  laws  seems  tp  be  further  indicated  by 
the  fact,  that  this  faculty  is  not  a  distinct'  entity  by  itself, 
but  rather  an  appurtenance  of  something  else  ;  in  other 
words,  it  is  not  the  subject,  which  might  more'reasonably  put 
forth  claims  of  independence,  but  sustainsthe  subordinate 
relation  of  an  atlribute.  As  the  will  is  evidently  only  one  of 
the  many  attributes  of  that  distinct  and  organized  existence, 
which  we  denominate.the  soul  or  mind,  it  is  .necessarily  sub- 
jected to  all  the  conditions  implied  in  that  relation.'  If  the* 
will,  in  its  ordinary  conditions,  is  not  only  free,  (a  truth 
which  is  readily  conceded,)  but  is  capable  also  o*f  a  perfectly 
contingent  action;  if  it  Ue  not  only  independent  of  compul- 
sion but  independent  also  of  all  regulative  oversight  and 
control ;  if  no  principles  whatever  pervade  its  varieties  of 
action  and  secure  to  them  something  like  symmetry  and  or- 
der; then,  so  far  as  we  have  an  understanding  in  the  matter, 
it  is  obviously  not  merely  an  attribute  or  part  of  that  whole, 
which  we  variously  denominate  the  mind  or  soul,  but  must 
.b6  regarded  as  a  distinct*  existence  by  itself.  But  if  it  .be 
otherwise  and  the  will  is  truly  an  attribute,  as  it  undoubted- 
ly is^  then  like  every  other  attribute  it  is  necessarily  subor- 
dinate to  the  'fundamental  conditions  of  that  ejcistpnce  or  en- 
tity, to  which  it  belongs  ;  and  from  the  nature  of  the  caSjB 
cannot  sustain  the  claims,  which  have  "been  set  up  f6r  it,  ta 
a  whc^lly  irresponsible  and  independent  action. 


LAWS    OF    THE    #ILL.  193 

§.   121.    The  same  confirmed  by  the  nature  of  volition. 

We  may  further  argue  the  matter  under  consideration  by 
a  reference  to  the  nature  of  volition.  If  we  rightly  under- 
stand the  subject,  the  very  idea  of  volition  implies  some  an- 
tecedent object.  It  is  perfectly  obvious  in  any  given  case, 
that  there  can  be  no  determining  upon  it,  without  something 
which  is  determined  ;  no  resolving  without  something  re- 
solved on  ;  -but  as  these  are  only  other  names  for  willing  or 
volition,  it  is  equally  obvious,  that  there  can  be  no  volition, 
without  an  object  towards  which  the  act  of  the  will  is  direc- 
ted. It  is  the  same,  here,  as  it  is  with  the  memory,  desire, 
association,  and  the  like.  There  can  be  no  act  of  the  mem- 
ory without  something,  which  is  remembered  ;  no  act  of  the 
desire  without  something  which  is  desired  ;  no  act  -of  assc^ 
ciation,  without  some  subject  or  object,  to  which  the  princi^ 
pie  of  association  attaches  itself.  But  if  by  universal  admis- 
sion it  would  be  altogether  absurd  to  speak  of  memory,  de- 
sire, and  association,  without  some  object  towards  which 
they  are  directed  or  upon  which  they  can  operate,  it  would 
seem  clearly  to  follow. that  volition  without  an  object  is  no 
l^fes  an  absurdity.  It  is  something  impossible  ;  sometJiing 
not  admitted  by  the'nature  of  the  mind  itself. 

But  if  volition  has  in  all  cases  an  object,  it  cannot  well 
be  denied,  that  its  acftion  is  in  all  cases  subjected  to  some 
law.  This  object,  without  which  volition  cannot  exist,  is  of 
course  a  condition  of  its  existence.  And  it  is  evident,  that 
every  thing,  which  is  a  condition  of  action,  is  in  some  sense, 
(and  we  may  add  in  a  true^and  very  important  sense,)  a  lato 
to  that  being  or  power,  which  puts  forth  such  action.  The 
will,  therefore,  is  in  its  very  nature  subject  to  law, 
2^ 


194  OTHE*    PROOFS    OF 

§.   122.   The  analogy  of  the  other  parts  of  the  mind  furnishes  a 
presumption  that  the  will  is  subject  to  law. 

We  are  also  furnished  with  an  argument  on  this  subject 
from  the  analogy,  which  is  discoverable  in  the  interiour  of 
the  mind   itself.     If  we  examine  carefully,  we  shall  not  fail 
to  see,  that  every  prominent  power  is  within  the  reach   and 
the  control  of  law.     All  men,  for  instance,  possess  the  sus- 
ceptibility or  power  of  believing  ;  but  it  is  obviously  and  un- 
deniably true,  that  men  exercise  belief  in  its  various  degrees 
and  acquire   knowledge   in   all   cases  whatever,    under   the 
promptings  and  guidance  of  some  law.     In  other  words  they 
are  so  constituted,  that  the  senses,  consciousness,  testimony, 
memory,  and  reasoning,  in   their  various   applications  and 
modifications,  necessarily  occasion  belief  ;  and  on  the  con- 
trary, in  the  absence  of  these  grounds  of  belief,  the  exercise 
of  the  susceptibiMty  wholly  fails,  and  the  belief  cannot  exist. 
The  belief  is  the  effect;  .the  grounds  of  belief  are  the  cause; 
and  they  are  adapted  to   each  other  with   as  much  precision 
and  as   much   infallibility,  if  there  are  no  disturbing  and 
counteracting  influences,  as  other  instances  of  invariable  an- 
tecedence and  sequence.     The  belief,  therefore,  is  properly 
said  to  be  subject  to  law,  since  there  are  permanent  condi- 
tions essential  and  indispensable  to  its  exercise. 

But  if  we  proceed  from  the  power  of  belief  to  the  power 
of  association,  we  shall  find  this  last  named  principle  also 
subjected  to  law.  Although  it  is  constantly  at  work,  and 
every  hour  illustrates  the  multiplicity  and  the  wonderful 
variety  of  its  operations,  every  act  is  still  referable  to  the 
infliience  of  some  general  principle. — Without  stopping  to 
remark  upon  sensation,  perception,  and  memory,  in  respect 
to  all  which  the  same  statement  will  hold  good,  we  may  fur- 
ther   add,    that  the   reasoning  power  also   has   its   laws. 


LAWS    OF    THE    WILL.  195 

Writers  agree  in  laying  down  what  is  prerequisite  to  the 
exercise  of  the  reasoning  power  ;  the  methods  in  which 
it  proceeds  ;  the  limits  which  restrict  it,  and  the  general 
conditions,  which  are  the  basis  of  its  success.  The  kindred, 
though  still  higher  power  of  the  imagination,  which  creates 
new  worlds,  and  peoples  them  with  new  existences,  and  em- 
bellishes them  with  new  forms  of  thought  and  feeling  and 
situation,  moves  only  in  the  precise  manner,  and  within  the 
precise  limits  which  are  prescribed  by  the  constitution  of 
tTie  human  mind. 

And  similar  views  hold  good  of  the  powers  of  the  mind  gen- 
erally. A  careful  observation  of  their  modes  of  action  will 
always  lead  to  the  same  result.  Not  one  of  them  acts  at  san- 
dom  ;  not  one  of  them  is  above,  or  beneath,  or  beyond  the  res- 
trictions and  the  guidance  of  fixed  principles.  And  what  then, 
in  view  of  these  facts,  and  reasoning  by  analogy  from  them, 
would  be  the  natural  conclusion  in  respect  to  the  will.^  It 
would  certainly  appear  strange  and  inexplicable,  if  the  other 
powers  of  the  mind  have  their  fixed  and  appropriate  princi- 
ples, to  find  the  will  alone  destitute  of  them. 

§.  123.  Proof  from  the  Jacts  developed  in  history. 

Another  important  circumstance,  which  we  have  not  hith- 
erto found  a  suitable  opportunity  to  advert  to,  is  the  united 
testimony  of  all  history  in  respect  to  the  character  and  con- 
duct of  mankind.  If  we  carefully  consult  its  pages,  we 
shall  find  that  history  every  where  discloses  and  confirms 
the  great  truth  of  an  uniformity  or  sameness  of  actions,  in 
all  cases  where  there,  is  a  sameness  of  circumstances.  The 
lineaments  of  human  nature  as  seen  in  one  age  correspond 
to  the  lineaments  of  the  same  nature  as  seen  in  another  age, 
as  unerringly  as  the  face  of  man  corresponds  to  its  likeness 
ii^a  mirror.    The  men  of  ancient  Egypt  and  Judea,  of  an- 


196  OTHER    PROOFS    OF' 

cient  Attica  and  Italy  wer6  the  same,  in  all  the  essentialand 
leading  elements  of  their  character,  with  those  who  have  at 
&ny  time  since  inhabited  those  countries.     The  inhabitants 
of  all  countries  and  of  all  climes,  in  all  periods  of  the  world 
and  in  all   the   diversities  of  their  situation,  have  been  sus-" 
ceptible  alike  of  being  influenced  and  controlled  in  their  ac- 
tions by  the  various  incitements. of  joy  and  sorrow,  of  rev- 
erence and  contempt,  of  avarice  and  ambition,  of  fear  and 
hope,  o^  generosity  and   honour,  of  friendship  and  hatred. 
What  has  bcQn  true  at;,  one  time  has  ever   been  essentially 
true  at  another. — "  Would  you  know  the   sentiments,  incli- 
nations,  and  course   of  life  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans  ? 
Study  well  the  temper  and  actions  of  the  French  and  Eng- 
lish.    You  cannot  be  much  mistaken  in  transferring  to  the 
former  most  of  the  observations^  which  yoii  have  made  with 
regard  to  the  latter.     Mankind  are  so  much  the  same,  in  all 
times  and  places,  that  history  informs  us  of  nothing  new  or 
strange  in  this  particulai;.     Its  chief  use  is  only  to  discover 
the  constant  and  universal   principles  of  human  nature,  by 
shewing  men  in  all  varieties  of  circumstances  and  situations, 
and  furnishing  us  with   materials,  from  which  we  may  form 
our   observations,  and  become  acquainted  with  the  regular 
springs  of  human  action  and  behayiour.     These  records    of 
wats,  intrigues,  factions,  and  revolutions,  are  so  many  collec- 
tions   of  experiments,  by  which   the  politician  or  moral  phi-  • 
losopher   fixes  the  principles   of  his   science  ;  in  the  same 
manner  as  the  physician  or  natural  philosopher  becomes  ac- 
quainted with  the  nature  of  plants,  minerals,  and  other  ex- 
ternal objects,  by  the   experiments  which  he  forms  concer- 
ning them.     Nor  are  the  earth,  water,  and   other  elements, 
examined  by  Aristotle,  and  Hippocrates,  more  like  to  those 
which  at  present,  lie  under   our  observation,  than  the  men, 
described  by  Polybius   and   Tacitus,  are  to  those  who  n^ 
govern  the  world."*  • 

♦Hume's  Inquiry  concerning  the  Human  Understanding,  Essay  8th.    • 


LAWS    OF    THE    WILL.  197 

§.  124.  Proof  from  instances  of  predominant  passion. 

.  Again,  there  is  a  distinct  source  of  illustration  and  proof, 
to  be  found  in  all  instainces  of  predominant  passiSn. '  H5,  who 
has  made  human  nature   a  study  either  in  the  past  annals  of 
the  human  race  or  within  the  range  of  his  own  personal  ob- 
servation, raust  iiave  frequently  noticed  individualsj  in  ^hom 
the  passions  have  becalne  so'  strong  as  to  encroach^  upon  the 
domain  of  the  voluntary  power,  and  to  bring  it  into  subjec- 
tion.    No  matter  what  the  passion  is,  (whether  attachment 
to  one's  intimat?  friends,  or  attachment  to  one's  coiintry  and 
the  place  of  his  birth,  or  the  love  of  pleasure,  or  the  desire  of 
acquiring  property,  or  jealousy,  or  party  zeal,  or  hatred,  or 
ambition,)  instances  are  every  .where  found  in  society  of  the 
existence  of  the   particular   passion,  whatever  it  may  be^  in 
such  overwhelming  strength  as  to  make  the  man  a  slave  to 
it.  We  would  here  willingly  bring  forward  instances,  and  the 
show  more  distinctly  what  we  mean,  were  it  not  that  they 
will  find  a  mor«  appropriate  place   in  another  Chapter  in  a 
subsequent  part  of  the  work,  where  we  shall  endeavour  to  • 
explain  what  we  understand  by  enthralment  or  slavery  of  the 
wijl.      But   we   may  probably  assume  here,   without  hes- 
itation, as  a  fact  well  known  and  readily  admitted,  that  such 
-instances  exist;  that  men,  submitting  {o  the. influence  of  a 
predominant  passion,  lose  in  a  great  degree  that  voluntary 
power,  which  characterises  and  ennobles  human  nature.     It 
is  often  the   case  that  no  lapse  of  time,  no  completeness  of 
seclusion,  no  advice  and  consolation  of  friends  can  weaken 
the  strength  of  this  inordinate  influence,  and  restore  the  parts 
of  the  mind  to  their  true  and  appropriate  position.     But  it 
certainly  seems  ol^rio^^s   and  undeniably,  that,  if  the  will  is 
thus  sometimes  made  captive  to  the  passions,  there  must  be  a 
real  and  operative  connection  between  the  will  and  the  pas- 


193  OTHER    PROOFS    OF 

sions,  and  that  the  will. must  be,  in  some  effective  sense,  sub- 
ject to  laws. 

§,  125.   The  subjection  of  the  vnll  to  law  evimed  by  cases 
of  casual  association. 

There  is  another  and  distinct  view  of  the  mind,  though 
intin;iately  related  to  that  presented  in  the  preceding  section, 
which  authorises  and  confirms  the  same  conclusion  in  respect 
to  the  will.  We  refer  to  instances,  which  sometimes  occur, 
and  perhaps  we  may  say  not  unfrequently,  of  strong  and 
fixed  casual  association.  Such  cases  decisively  prove,  that 
the  will  is  not  beyond  control,  which  it  would  be,  if  it  were 
altogether  beyond  the  reach  and  influences  of  law.  If  the 
will  were  by  its  nature  necessarily  and  entirely  indepen- 
dent, no  instances  of  casual  association,  however  strong  or 
however  long-continued,  could  reach  and  destroy,  or  even 
perplex  the  action  of  the  voluntary  power.  But  a  consider- 
able number  of  well-attested  facts  indicate  directly  the  re- 
verse. 

§.  126.  Instances  illustrative  of  the  preceding  section. 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  point  out  instances  of  individ- 
uals, otherwise  not  wanting  in  the  full  proportion  and  exer- 
cise of  mental  power,  in  whom  the  power  of  volition  has 
been  completely  prostrated  in  respect  to  certain  objects  and 
occasions.  In  the  history  of  the  French  Revolution  we  find 
mention  made  of  a  General,  who  in  the  sanguinary  wars  of 
La  Vendee  greatly  distinguished  himself  by  tl\e  attributes 
of  skill,  firmness,  decision,  and  bravery.  He  was  perfect- 
ly calm  and  self-possessed,  when  contending  in  close  and 
fatal  opposition  witU  hosts  of  armed  men^Jiristling  with  the 
implements  of  death.  But  in.  consequence  of  a  casual  asso- 
ciation, the  foundation  of  which  he  himself  perhaps  could 


tAWS    OF    THE    WILL.  199 

not  perfectly  recollect,  the  distinguished  commander  to  whom 
we  refer  could  never  look  upon  a  squirrel,  an  animal  suffi- 
ciently harmless  and  playful,  without  turpi ng^  pale,  and  with- 
out a  sensation  of  fear  and  shuddering,* — It  will  not  be  pre- 
tended, that  Peter  the  Great  of  Russia  was  wanting  in  men* 
tal  vigour  on  ordinary  occasions.  His  whole  history  con- 
tradicts any  such  presumption.  But  it  is  related^of  him  un- 
doubtedly with  truth,  that  he  was  utterly  unable  to  bear  the 
sight  of  a  certain  black  insect  of  the  scarabeus  or  beetle  kind, 
which  is  often  found  in  houses  that  are  not  kept  clean.  The 
sight  of  one  would  at  once  subdue  his  firmness  and  entirely 
overcome  him,  so  much  so  as  to  drive  him  out  of  the  apart- 
ment or  even  the  house.j — It  is  related  of  a  distinguished 
Governor  of  one  of  the  American  States,  that  whe»  a  boy 
he  fell  asleep  under  a  tree,  and  was  awakened,  by  a  serpent 
crawling  over  him.  He  arose  in  gjreat  terror,  ran  towards^ 
the  house,  and  fell  down  in  a  convulsive  fit.  Afterwards 
through  life  be  retained  such  an  aversion  for  every  thing  of 
the  serpent  kind,  that  he  could  not  see  one,  or  even  the  pic- 
ture  of   one,  without  falling  into    convulsions. There 

are  other  instances  of  a  similar  kind.  Mr.  Locke  relates, 
(Essay,  Book  ii.  Chapter  32,)  the  case  of  an  individual,  who 
was  once  perfectly  cured  of  madness  by  a  very  harsb  and 
offensive  operation.  During  all  his  life  after,  he  acknowl- 
edged with  the  most  sincere  gratitude,  that  he  could  not  hare 
received  a  greater  benefit ;  and  still  he  was  utterly  unable 
to  bear  the  sight  of  the  operator,  it  suggested  so  strongly 
the  dreadful  suffering  which  he  underwent. 

In  all  cases  of  this  kind  it  is  obvious,  that  individuals  have 
in  a  great  degree  lost  their  voluntary  power,  .in  respect  to 
particular  occasions  and  objects.     How  it  should  thus  have 

♦  See  the  interesting  Memoirs  of  De  La  Rochejaquelin. 
t  Staehlin's  Original  Anecdotes  of  Peter  the  Great. 


200  OTHER    PROOFS    OF* 

happened  it  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  explain  at  the  present 
time.  The  simple  fact,  that  the  will  is  susceptible  of  being 
placed  in  this  peculiar  situation,  is  enough  for  our  present 
purpose  ;  since  it  does  not  at  all  appear  how  this  could  be 
the  case,  if  the  will  were  entirely  independent,  and  could  in 
no  case  whatever  be  subject  to  laws.  For  instance  if  we  as- 
cribe the  result  in  question  to  association,  which  is  common- 
ly done,  we  must  take  into  consideration,  that  association  is 
a  thing  entirely  distinct  from  the  voluntary  power  ;  that 
they  are  altogether  separate  from  each  other  ;  and  that  asso- 
ciation cannot  possibly  operate  upon  the  will,  except  by 
means  of  some  general  principles  or  laws  connecting  them 
together. 

§.   127.  Remarks  in  conclusion  of  the  argument. 

We  here  close  our  review  of  those  facts  and  circumstan- 
ces, which  seem  to  us,  whatever  degree  of  weight  they  may 
have  upon  the  minds  of  others,  decisively  to  indicate  and  to 
prove,  that  the  will  has  its  laws.  It  ban  hardly  be  necessary 
to  add,  after  what  has  been  said  at  various  times,  that,  in  pre- 
dicating laws  of  the  will,  we  do  not  mean  to  assert,  that  the 
will  has  laws,  in  the  same  sense  in  which  a  piece  of  wood  or 
a  tree  or  a  pendulum  or  a  clock  or  a  watch  or  any  other 
purely  material  object  has  laws.  When  we  assert  that  the 
will  is  subject  to  law,  the  terms  of  the  proposition  must  of 
course  be  modified  by  the  nature  of  the  subject,  and  be  ex- 
plained in  conformity  with  that  nature.  But  numberless 
propositions,  having  a  relation  to  mindj  are  as  well  under- 
stood, as  propositions  relating  to  matter.  If  we  can  predi- 
cate law  of  spiritual  existence,  or  spiritual  attributes,  or  spir- 
itual action  in  any  case  whatever,  we  can  do  it  equally  well 
of  the  will  of  man.  The  proposition,  therefore,  has  a  distinct 
and  substantive  meaning.     And  as  having  such,  it  admits  o 


LAWS    OF    THE    WILL.  gQl 

the  application  of  inquiry  and  argument,  and  is  susceptible  of 
being  either  affirmed  or  denied;  and' we  leave  it  to  the  rea- 
der to  deternline  Vv^hether  the  facts  and  circumstances,  which 
have  been  brought  up  in  reference  to  It,  admit  of  any  possi- 
ble explanation,  except  on  the  ground  of  its  undojibted  truth . 

And  if  its  truth  be  satisfactorily  established,  then  let  it 
have  its  full  practical  effect.  Let  us  remember,  that  in  this 
simple  proposition  we  find  the  golden  link,  which  binds  us 
to  the  throne  of  God.  If  my  will  is  not  subject  to  laW, 
then  God  is  not  my  master.  And  what  is  more,  he  is  not 
only  not  so  in  fact,  but  it  is  impossible  that  he  should  be  so. 

But  on  the  other  hand,  if  mj-  will  is  not  independent,  in 
the  sense  of  being  beyond  the  reach  of  law,  then  the  hand 
of  the  Almighty  is  upon  me,  and  I  cannot  escape  even  if  I 
would.  The  searching  eye  of  the  great  Author  of  all  thtngs 
ever  attends  my  patth;  and  whether  I  love  or  hate,  obey  or 
rebel,  I  can  never  annul  his  authority,  or  evade  his  juris- 
dictran^  "  * 


26 


CHAPTER  NINTH. 


NATURE  AND  KINDS  OF  MOTIVES. 


§.  12S,  Connection  of  this  subject  with  the  consideration  of 
motives. 

In  what  has  "been  said  hitherto  in  this  Part  of  our  Work^' 
our  efforts  have  been 'directed  to  the  single  matter  of  endea- 
voring to  show,  that  the  will  is  subject  to  laws.  We  are 
aware  that  we  have  given  little  more  than  the  outlines  of  an 
argument,  and  that  in  its  details  it  m'ight  have  been  prosecu- 
ted at  much  greater  length;  and  yet  we  are  utterly  unable  * 
to  renounce  the  conviction,  that  it  conclusively  establishes 
this  important  position,even  in  the  imperfect  form  in  which  it 
has  been  presented.  Certainly  if  we  did  not  think  so,we  should 
not  consider  it  worth  while  to  attempt  to 'advance  any  fur- 
ther in  our  investigations ;  for  if  we  did  not  feel  confident, 
that  our  own  will  is  subject  to  laws,  "vye  could  not  for  a  mo-; 
ment  indulge  the  expectation  of  the  accomplishment  of  any 
proposed  purpose  or  plan  whatever. 

But  we  are  aware  that  something  more  may  be  expected. 
We  may  be  required  to  indicate  what  these  laws  are,  to  ♦ 


NATURE    AND    KINDS    OF    MOTIVES.  203 

point  them  qut,  td  show  how  they  operate.  Without  profes-- 
sing  to  hold  ourselves  amenable  to  this  requisition  in  its  full 
extent,  we  nevertheless  propose  in  this  Chapter  to  indicate, 
in  part  at  least,  the  conditions,  to  which  the  action  of  the 
.will  conforms  itself.  And  as  these  conditions,  so  far  aa  they 
are  known  and  cognizable  by  us,  appear  to' be  found,  if  not 
exclusively,  yet  in  a  marked  degree,  in  what  are  termed 
Motives,  we  shall  accordingly  proceed  Jo  remark  briefly  on 
this  sulject.         .  , 

§.  129  Of  the  division  of  motives  into  hierml  and  External. 

It  is  necessary,  iij  order  to  have  ^  thorough  knowledge 
of  Motives,  to  contemplate  them  in  various  points  of  view. 
Considered,  in  the  first  place,  in  leference  to  their  origin, 
they  are  susceptible   of  being  divided   into  the  two  classes 

of  Internal   and   External. By  the   internal  we  mean 

mojives,  as  they  exist  in  the  mind  itself,  the  various  f(wms  of 
the  a^^etites,  those  higher  'sentient  principies,which  may  be 
denominated  the  propensities,  and  the  various  kinds  and  de- 
grees of  the  affections,  together  with  all  motives  within  us 
of  a  moral  nature.  It  is  certain,  that,  in  some  important 
sense  of  the  expressions,,  all  motives,  at  least  before  they  can 
reach  and  -effect  the  will,  must  exist  in  the  mind,  although 
there  are  grounds  for  speaking  of  their  antecedent  and  sep- 
arate existence   in  outward   objects. (2)  By   external 

motives  we  mean  all  those,  which  are  placed  external  to  the 
mind,  and  are  /ocafed,  if  the  expression  jnay  be.allowed,  in 
outward  things.  AH  external  objects,  which  excite  within 
us  either  approbation  or  disgust,  joy  or  sorrow;  all  such  out- 
ward objects  as  are  supposed  to  have  a  connection  either 
with  our  worldly  prosperity  or  our  duty,  operate  upon  us  as 
motives.  It  is  true  they  influence  us  through  the  medium  of 
our  mental  nature,  the  emotions,  passions,  and  moral  pow- 
ers ;  but  as  the  influence  exercised   may  be  traced  to  them 


204  NATURE    AND   .  * 

as  the  ultimate  subjects,  there  is  a  degree  5f» propriety  in  de- 
signating them  as  motives.     Outward  motives,  in  the  sense 
of  the  term   as  just  explained,  are  innumerable,  presenting 
themselves  to  our  notice  on  all  sides,  in  all   the  various  as- 
pects of  creation,  and  in  all  the  endless  forms  of  human  en- 
terprise. *    * 
.        ■          ■  * 
§.  130.  External  motives  derive  their  ejflcacy  from  the  mind. 

Although  all  objects  without  us,  and  all  extern^  actions 
may,  under  different  pircumstances  and  in  different  degrees, 
exist  as  motives,  still  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  regard  sucK 
external  objects  or  actions  as  having  a.yalue  to  ourselves  or 
a  character  of  any  kind,  except  it  be  in  reference  to  those 
feelings  which  the  contemplation  of  them  excites  in  our  own 
minds.  Abstracted  from  the  internal  feelings,  of  which  they 
are  the  antecedents  and  cause,  they  are  all  equally  indifferent. 
It  is  (^r  own  emotions  and  desires,  therefore,  reflected  ^ack 
upon  all  external  objects  and  actions  of  whatever  kind^which 
infuse  into  them  their  qualities  of  beauty  or  deformity,'  of  un- 
worthiness  or  excellence,  and  give  them  their  power,  what- 
ever it  may  be,  in  relation  to  the  will. 

It  would  not  be  a  difficult  task,  it  is  presumed,  to  adduce 
instances,  illustrating  and  confirrning  these  views.  As  an 
example,  a  war  is  announced  in  Europe,  and  the  merdiant 
winds  up  his  accounts,  and  detains  his  vessels  at  home.  The 
war  is  his  motive  for  so  doing.  Subsequently  there  is  a 
false  report  of  war  in  Europe,  which  he  believes  to  be  true, 
and  he  pursues  the  same  course  as  befo|e.  In  both  these 
cases  the  internal  belief,  combined  with  his  fears,  gives  to 
the  motive,  as  the  war  would  be  considered,  it^  whole  effect. 
In  the  latter  case  it  constitufes  it  entirely,  as  the  reported 
war  is  only  a  fiction. 

Again,  riches,  whether  in  the  form  of  lands  or  of  gold 
and  silver,  or  in  any  other  form,  constitute  a  powerful  motive. 


KINDS    OF    MOTIVES. 


But  it  IS  in  vain  to  presume,  that  the  common  dust  oti  Which 
we  tread,  or  even  the  brightest  masses  of  ore  it  contains^  in- 
herit and  possess  in  themselves  a  power  to  keep  men  con- 
stantly in  action,  to*  ^arry  them  from  land  to  land,  and  from 
sea  to  sea.  It  is  the  mind  itself,  which  invests  them  with  at-  . 
tributes,  that  render  them  so  effective.  Men  see  in  them  the 
means  of  the  enjoyments  they  covet  ;  the  means  of  influence 
among  theit  fellows ;  the  source  of  honour  and  power.  So  that 
if  riches  are  one  of  the  most  efficient  motives  that  can*  be  pre- 
sented to  the  human  will,  it  is  the  heart,the  soul,  which  fnakes 
thempso.  Since  you  have  only  to  place  the  man,  who  desir- 
ed them  so  much,  on  his  death  bed;  you  have  only  to  show 
him  that  his  gilded  heaps  can  no  longer  purchase  honour,  in- 
fluence, enjoyment,  not  even  an  hour  of  life,  not  even  ex- 
emption from  a  single  pain,  and  then  riches  are  no  longer  a 
motive;  he  turns  from  them  with  disgust;  he  regards  them 
as  little  as  the  chaff*,  which  the  wind  scatters  away. 

§.  131   The  character  of  motives  depends  in  part  on  the  consti- 
tutional traits  of  the  indfviduaL 

Although  all  objects,  which  are  presented  to  the  mind  in 
the  shape  and  relation  of  External  motives,  undergo  a  modi- 
fication in  their  progress  to^vards  the  region  of  the  Will,  it  * 
may  not  be  unimportant  to  remark,  that  this  modification 
will  be  very  various  in  different  individuals  according  to 
their  predominant  mental  traits.-  We  will  suppose  as  an  ex- 
ample, that  the  same  object  is  presented  to  the  notice  of 
two  individuals;  the  one  possessed  of  dull  and  restricted,  the 
other  of  quick  and  comprehensive  powers  of  reasoning.  The 
object  may  appear  diminutive  and  unimportant  to  the  former, 
and  probably  jtvill  appear  so,  because  his  powers  of  reasoning 
are  not  expansive  enough  to  embrace  it  in  all  its  relations 
and  consequences;  while  the  same  object  will  appear,  for  an 


206  NATURE    AND 

opposite  reason,  exceedingly  magnified  and  importailt  to  the 
latter. 

•And  again,  select  two  other  persons,  whose  reasoning 
powers  closely  resemble  each  other,  apd  are  iti  fact  entirely 
the  same,  but  whose  sensibilities  are  constitutionally  differ- 
ent; the  one,  a  person  intensely  susceptible  of  vivid  and 
strong  emotions  and  diesires;  the  other,  on  the  contrary ,  pos- 
sessed of  a  sluggish  and  phlegmatic  temperament.  Now  we 
will  suppose  that  the  exciting  object  or  motive,  whatever  it 
is,  comes  from  the  reasoning  or  intellectual  part  of  their  con- 
stitution to  thd  sentient  or  emotive  part  with  the  same  di- 
mensions ;  in  other  words  as  it  exists  in  the  under sta7}dingy 
and  as  it  passes  from  the  understanding  to  the  heart,  it  ap- 
pears to  both  of  these  persons  precisely  alike;  .but  in  the 
former  case,  that  of  the  man  of  vivid  sensibilites,  it  at  once 
becomes  heated  and  expanded  as  if  placed  in  the  focus  of  a 
powerful  lens;  wiiile  in  the  lattdr,  it  remains  cold  and  with- 
ered and  torpid  as'if  under  the  blighting  influences  of  a  win- 
try frost. 

§.  132.  Their  character  depends  in  part  on  temporary  influences. 

And  this  is  not  all..  Every  one  knows  that  we  are  sub- 
ject to  temporary  influences,'Soipetimes  not  easily  explicable. 
At  one  time  we  are  animated  by  encouraging  aspirations 
and  joyous  hopes,  and  every  ^hing  is  clothed  in  brightness  ; 
and  shortly  after  we  are  sad  and  depressed,  and  all  objects 
appear  to  be  invested  with  gloom.  The  motives,  which  call 
upon  us  to  resolve  and  to  act,  appear  very  variously  under 
such  circumstances.  In  the  season  of  our  joyousness,  the 
light  of  our  minds  attaches  itself  to  the  various  outward  ob- 
jects, that  are  presented  before  them,  and  they  shine  like  illu- 
minated points,  like  guiding  stars.  In  the  season  of  our 
despondency  and  sorrow,  they   fall  from  the  zenith    with 


KINDS    OF    MOTIVES.  207 

dimmed  or  extinguished  beams  ;  and  we  no  longer  heed 
them.  .  * 

And  all  these  various  circumstances,  and  the  changes, 
which  are  consequent  upon  them,  ought  to  be  take»into  con- 
sideration.  Motives,  as  they  exist  outwardly  and  inde- 
pendently of  the  understanding,  are  as  different  from  what 
they  are  subsequently,  when  they  have  passed  under  the  no- 
tice and  review  of  the  intellect,  as  the  rich  and  diversified 
colors,  when  they  are  refracted  and  separated  by  the  prism, 
are  from  the  pale  and  uniform  light,  in  which  they  were  pre- 
viously latent.-  There  is  even  a  greater  difterence  than  is 
implied  in  this  comparison;  for  they  are  not  only,  at  their 
first  appearance  in  the  mind,  subject  to  be  altered  by  the  in- 
tellect, as  to  their  extent  and  relations  ;  but  in  their  further 
progress  they  seem  to  be  penetrated  and  inspired  with  an 
actual  vitality,  a  principle  of  life  derived  from  the  actual  in- 
fusion and  mingling  of  the  sensibilities.  So  that,  if  we  may 
be  permitted  another  illustration  from  material  "objects,  mo- 
tives in  t!ieir  modification  are  as  different  from  what  they 
are  in  their  primitive^  outward,  or  objective  state,  as  the  col- 
ours of  a  skilful  painter,  when  they  are  laid  on  the  canvass 
in  form  and  proportion,  and  are  made  instinct  with  life  and 
intelligence,  are  fronf  th^  same  colours,  when  standing  crude 
and  massive  in  his  paint  vessels. — Such  is  the  transformation, 
to  which  ©utward  or  External  motives,  as  they  are  denomina- 
t;ed',  are  subjeqt  in  their  progress  through  the  mind;  but  the 
amount  and  degree  of  this  transformation  will  not  only  de- 
pend upon  the  general  structure  of  the  mind;  but  will  be 
found  to  vary  in  different  persons,  and  under  different  situa-, 
tions. 

§.  133.   Mirther  division  of  motives  into  Personal  and  Moral, 
Motives  Inay  not  only  be  divided  into  the  two  classes  pf 


208  NATURE    AND 

External  and  Internal,  but  are  susceptible  of  the  yet  further 
division  into  the  classes  of  personal  and  moral,  which  is,  in 
some  respects,  the  more  impprtant  arrangement  of  the  two. — 
(1)  By  the  phrase  personal  motives,  we  mean  not  only  those 
which  are  ol"  a  prudential  nature,-  and  which  relate  to  a  man's 
own  interests,  as  those  interests  are  seen  and  estimated  in 
a  cautious  foresight ;  but  we  use  it  as  including  also  vari- 
ous other  motives,  which  are  founded  in  the  nature  and  cons- 
titution of  the  mind  itself,  such  as  the  appetites,  propensi- 
ties, and  affections.  Thes^  last  are  a  part  of  ourselves  in  the 
strict  sense  of  the  terms.  They  are  tendencies,  which  are  not 
only  a  part  of  our  nature,  but  which  are  evidently  essential 
to  our  preservation,  as  beings  existing  in  a  state  of  want  and 
dependence  ourselves,  and  as  closely  connected  in  various 
w-ays  with  our  fellow-men.  And  this  being  the  case,  there 
is  certainly  a  propriety  in  applying  the  epithet  personal  to 
indicate  all  the  motives,*  arising  from  these  various  sources. 

(2)  By  moral  motives  we  understand  those,  which  are 
connected  with  the  intimations  of  conscience  and  witji  feel- 
ings of  obligation,  or  which  are  in  any  way  based  in  our 
moral  nature.  In  the  occasions  of  their  origin,  they  do  not 
appear  to  be  so  fixed  and  definite  as  those,  which  are  pre- 
sented by  the  appetites,  propensities,  jind  affections,  or  by' 
any  other  modifications  of  desire  ;  but  are  found  to  arise 
under  a  multitude  of  circumstances,  of  which  it  is^  impossi- 
ble to  give  any  antecedent  description. 

Personal  motives  operate  within  a  limited  sphere  appro- 
priate' to  themselves,  and  in  general  easily  ascertainable. 
Moral  motives,  on  the  contrary,  acknowledge  no  limits,^short 
of  the  universe,  eternity,  and  the  boundless  range  of  duties 
from  the  finite  to  the  infinite.  Personal  motives  go  no  far- 
ther than  to  include  whatever  relates,  either  in*its  origin  or 
its  results,  tg  ourselves,  together  with  what  relates  to  others, 


KINDS    OF    MOTIVES.  209 

considered  as  the  mere  objects  of  our  natural  sympathy,  affec- 
tion, or  aversion.  Moral  motives  extend-  themselves  to  all 
cases  and  occasions  of  action  whatever,  vrhether  relating  to 
ourselves  orothets,  to  the  present  or  the  future,  to  time  or 
eternity  ;  in  a  word^  to  every  variety  and  possibility  of 
human  action,  so  far  as  ^he  action  is  a  voluntary  one.  Per- 
sonal motives,  so  far  as  they  are  natural  or  constitutional, 
which  is4he  case  with  all  the  natural  appetites,  propensities, 
and  affections,  operate  of  themselves  and  originally,  in  a  man- 
ner somewhat  similar  to  the  operation  of  the  instincts. 
Moral  motives,  on  the  contrary,  removed  at  the  farthest  pos- 
sible distance  from  any  thing  of  an  instinctive  nature,  are 
not  capable  of  any  operation  or  of  any  existence,independent- 
ly  of.the  reasoning  power;  but  always  exist  and  act  in  con- 
nection with  that  power.  Persgnal  motives,  so  far  as  they 
are  not  properly  constitutional  or  instinctive,  but  are  based 
upon  the  deductions  of  reasoning,  always  prompt  us  to  act 
for  certain  things,  simply  and  exclusively  because  those 
things  appear  desirable,  either  for  ourselves  or  others.  Mor- 
al motives,  on  the  othef  hand,  always  prompt  us  to  act  for' 
certain  things,  simply  because  they  are  right,  whatever  per- 
sonal bearing  they  may  have  either  on  ourselves  or  others. 
Personal  motives,  whether  they  are  selfish  or  benevolent, 
whether  they  prompt  us  to  act  for  the  good  of  others  or  our 
own  good,  are  obviously  amenable  to  the  higher  authority 
and  control  of  moral  motives..  The  latter  in  their  operation 
are  in  some  sense  analogous  to  the  faith  of  the  Christian  in 
the  promises  of  God;  since  they  require  men,  with  an  au- 
thoritative voice,  to  go  forward  in  the  fulfilment  of  certain 
proposed  actions,  whatever  distresses  and  darkness  may  be- 
set their  path.  JMen,  when  called  upon  to  act  in  view  of  mo- 
tives of  this  kind,  are  not  permitted'  to  enquire,  whether  it 
would  be  pleasing  to  their  natural  desires   and  affections 


210  NATURE    ANI> 

whether  their  love  or  hatred  is  concerned,  whether  Ihe  pro- 
posed course  of  conduct  involves  their  benefit  or  their  inju- 
ry; hut  are  presented  with  the  simple  and  only  alternative 
of  acquiescence  or  resistance,  of  obedience  or  disobedience, 
without  regard  to  the  consequences  in  any  shape  whatever. 

§.  134.   On  the  use  of  the  phrase  personal  motives . 

It  may  be  proper  to  say  something  in  vindication  of  the 
epithet,  which  we  propose  to  apply  to  the  class  of  motives^ 
which  are  arranged  as  distinct  from  those  of  a  moral  kind. 
There  are  undoubtedly  other  terms,  which  will  readily  sug- 
gest themselves  as  more  or  less  appropriate  to  be  employed 
in  the  place  of  the  one  adopted,  such  as  natural,  prudential^ 
psychological  y  selfish,  self 'interested,  &c.  But  all  of  them,  an 
careful  examination,  will  "be  found  to  be  attended  with  some 
objections.  If,  for  instance,  (for  it  is  probably  unnecessary 
to  institute  a  distinct  examination  in  respect  to  each  of  the 
terms  just  mentioned,)  we  propose  to  apply  the  epithet 
selfish  to  all  motives,  which  are  not  of  a  moral  kind,  we  must 
necessarily  include  many  desires  and  aflfectionSy  which,  un- 
der certain  circumstances  at  least,  are  not  of  that  character. 
The  epithet  personal  does  not  appear  to  be  exposed  to  the 
same  objection,  and  is  therefore  entitled  to  the  preference. 
It  undoubtedly  in  its  applications  implies  that  the  thing  spo- 
ken of  pertains  to  ourselves  in  some  sense  or  other  ;  but  it 
does  not  necessarily  imply  what  we  express  by  the  term 
selfishness,  although  on  the  other  hand  it  does  not  exclude 
that  idea.  The  term,  it  will  be  readily  perceived,  is  a  very 
general  one,  including  the  preparative  influence  or  promp- 
tings of  the  appetites,  desires,  and  affections  in  their  various, 
modifications,  whether  they  are  put  forth  within  their  due 
and  innocent  limits,  or*exi^t  in  that  inordinate  degree  which 
indicates  selfishness ;  and  accordingly  seems  to  embrace  ev- 


KINDS    OF    MOTIVES.  211 

ery  possible  motive,  with  the  exception  of  those  originating 
in  our  moral  nature.  And  hence  it  appeared  to  be  a  very 
proper  term  to  be  used,  in  order  to  express  the  distinction 
before  us. 

But  it  is  not  necessary  to  dwell  upon  this  topic  further 
than  to  add,  that  respectable  authorities  are  not  wanting  in 
support  of  this  applicationof  the  epithet  in  question. — "Rea- 
sonable men,(says  Sir  James  Mackintosh,)apply  arguments  to 
the  understanding,  and  blame,  together  with  aU'other  mo- 
tives, whether  moral  or  personal,  to  the  will  alone."* 

§.  135.    TAe  appetites,  propensities^  and  affections  not  in  them- 
selves  of  a  moralMature, 

The  classification  of  motives  into  Personal  and  Moral, 
which  has  been  made,  seems  clearly  to  indicate,  that  the  va- 
rious modifications  of  desire,  which  are  included  under  the 
distinct  heads  of  Appetites,  Propensities,  Affections,  &c,  and 
which  go  to  constitute  a  large  portion  of  personal  in  dis- 
tinction from  what  are  denominated  moral  motives,  have  not 
of  themselves  a  moral  character.  And  this  is  true. — There 
can  be  no* doubt,  in  the  first  place,  in  respect  to  the  appe- 
tites. .  The  truth  in  respect  to  all  the  appetites  may  be  il- 
lustrated by  a  slight  attention  to  those  of  hunger  and  thirst. 
These  appetites  are  neithcF  selfish  nor  benevolent;  neither 
morally  good  nor  evil,  in  themselves  considered,  and  in  their 
original  and  appropriate  operation.  Their  object,  in  their 
original  and  uncorrupted  state,  is  not  pleasure,  but  food  and 
drink.  It  cannot  be  doubted,  that  they  are  absolutely  ne- 
cessary for  our  bodily  support,  and  that  without  them  we 
could  not  exist.    They  are   implanted,  therefore,  although 

•Progress  of  Ethical  Philosophy,  Sect.  VI.  Art.  Hume. — See  ^Iso  a  simi- 
lar application  and  use  of  the  epithet  personal  in  Dr.Abercrombie's  Philosophy 
of  the  Moral  Feelings ,  Part  II, 


fil2  NATURE    AND 

like  all  the  other  principles  of  our  nature  liable  to  perversion, 
for  a  definite  purpose,  and  obviously  an  indispensable  and 
good  one.  Being  adapted  to  the  exigencies  of  our  present 
situation,  and  evidently  good  and  important  in  their  place, 
they  cannot  in  their  original  state  be  vicious  ;  nor,  on  the 
other  hand,  as  they  are  constitutional  principles,  not  only 
operating  of  themselves  but  operating  necessarily  under  cer- 
tain given  circumstances,  are  they,  by  their  own  nature 
merely,  virtuous.  Nevertheless  when  they  deparj;  from  their 
original  object,  and  by  excessive  indulgence  thrust  them- 
selves beyond  the  sphere,  in  which  Providence  designed 
them  to  act,  they  may  become  a  source  of  vice;  and  on  the 
other  hand  endeavors  to  restrain  them,  when  their  action 
has  become  irregular  and  inordinate,  may  involve  virtue. 

A  like  view  will  hold  good  in  relation  to  what  may  prop- 
erly be  termed,  in  distinction  from  the  appetites  on  the  one 
hand  and  the  affections  on  the  other,  the  propensities  of  our 
nature,  such  as  the  principle  of  curiosity  or  desire  of  knowl- 
edge, the  desire  of  esteem,  the  desire  of  society,  the  pro- 
pensity to   imitate,  &c.- The   following  remarks   of  Mr. 

Stewart  on  the  propensity  of  curiosity  or  desire  of  knowledge 
will  show  clearly  and  satisfactorily,  in  what  light  these  ten- 
dencies of  our  constitution  are  to  be  reg|i:rded.  "Although, 
however,  the  desire  of  knowledg;e  is  not  resolvable  into  self- 
love,  it  is  not  in  itself  an  objetit  of  moral  approbation.  ,A 
person  may  indeed  employ  his  intellectual  powers  with  a 
view  to  his  own  moral  improvement,  or  to  the  happifless  of 
society,  and  so  far  he  acts  from  a  laudable  principle.  But" 
to  prosecute  study  merely  from  the  desire  of  knowledge  is 
neither  virtuous  nor  vicious.  When  not  suffered  to  interfere 
with  our  duties,  it  i-s  morally  innoqent.  The  virtue  or  vice 
does  not  lie  in  the  desire,  but  in  the  proper  or  improper  reg- 
ulation of  it.     The  ancient  astronomer,  who,  when  accused 


KliVDS    OF    MOTIVES.  ;  213 

qf  indifference  in  respect  to  public  transactions,  answered 
that  his  country  was  in  the  heavens,  acted  criminally,  inas- 
much as  he  suffered  his  desire  of  knowledge  to  interfere  with 
the  duties,  which  he  owed  to  mankind." 

Similar  views  are  expressed  by  him,  not  only  in  regard 
to  the  other  propensities,  but  also  inrespect  to  that  higher 
class  of  sentient  or  active  principles  denominated  the  Affec- 
tions, And  they  are  sustained  by  such  considerations  as 
will  be  likdy  to  recommend  them  to  the  favourable  recep- 
tion of  every  one.  We  take  the  liberty  to  'refer  the  reader 
to  his  statements  with  the  single  remark  further,  that  what 
has  been  said  is  enough,  to  show,  that  the  classification  of 
motives,  which  has  just  been  made,  is  founded  in  nature. 

§.  136.  Motives  coextensive  with  volitions. 

In  examining  the  subject  of  motives,  it  is  one  remark  ob- 
vious to  be  made,  that  volitions  never  exist  independently  of 
motives.  Whenever  there  is  that  act  of  the  mind,  which  ye 
term  a  volition,there  is  an  antecedent  statue  of  the  mind,cdhstir 
tuting  the  cause,  (by  which  we  mean  the  antecedent  condi- 
tion, preparative,or  occasion,)  of  the  volition,which  we  term 
Jthe'motive.  By  the  constitution  of  the  mind  itself  they  go 
together,  and  are  inseparably  connected.  But  we  will  not 
expend  time  on  this  point,  upon  which  there  will  probably 
be  found  no  difference  of  opinion.  Mr.  Stewart  mentions  this 
as  one  of  the  principles,  on  which  the  conflicting  parties  on 
the  subject  of  the  will  are  agreed.     Some  of  his  remarks  are 

as  follows. "  Every  action  is  performed  with  some  view, 

or,  in  other  words,  is  performed  with  some,  motive.  Dr. 
Reid  indeed  denies  this  with  zeal,  but  I  am  doubtful  if  he 
has  strengthened  his  cause  by  doing  so  ;  for  he  confesses, 
that  the  actions,  which  are  performed  without  motives,  are 
perfectly  trifling  and   insignificant,  and  not  such  as  lead  to 


214  NATURE    AND     * 

any  general  conclusion  concerning  the  merit  or  demerit  of 
lyoral  agents.  I  should  therefore  rather  be  disposed  to 
yield  this  point  than  to  dispute  a  proposition  not  materially 
connected  with  the  question  at  issue.  One  thing  is  clear 
and  indisputable,  that  it  is  only  in  so  far  as  a  man  acts  from 
motives  or  intentions,  that  he  is  entitled  to  the  character  of  a  ra^ 
tional  being. ^"^^ 

This  view,  that  motives  are  coexistent  with  volitions, 
tends  to  confirm  the  general  doctrine,  that  the  will  is  subject 
to  laws.  If  the  existence  of  motives  in  some  form  or  other, 
either  personal  or  moral,  either  in  the  shape  of  our  interest 
or  our  duty,  is  the  indispensable  condition  of  any  action  of 
the  voluntary  power,  it  certainly  cannot  be  said  with  any 
degree  of  correctness,  that  the  action  of  the  will  is  wholly  a 
contingent  and  unrestrained  One. 

§.  137.  Mitureof  the  injl^nce  of  motives. 

In  consequence  of  this  fixed  connection  between  the  vo- 
lition and  the  motive,  involving  the  undeniable  fact,  that  the 
volition  is  in  some  sense  of  the  term  dependent  on  the  ante- 
cedent motive,  we  find  in  the  use  of  language  certain  expres- 
sions and  modes  of  expression,  which  are  deserving  of  no- 
tice, such  as,  "  motives  influence  the  will,"  "motives  govern 
the  will,"  ''volitions  are  caused  by  motives,"  "volitions  are 
controlled  by  motives,"  &c.  What  we  wish  to  observe  in 
respect  to  these  and  other  equivalent  expressions  is,  that, 
although  in  common  parlance  they  may  often  be  convenient, 
they  are  to  be  received  with  some  restriction  in  all  inquiries 
into  the  will,  aiming  at  philosophical  accuracy . 

If,  for  instance,  it  be  asserted,  that  motives  cause  voli- 
tions, as  it  not  unfrequently  is,  we  are  undoubtedly  required 
by  all  sound  inquiry  to  exclude  from  the  expression  the  idea 

♦Philosophy  of  the  Moral  and  Active  Powers,  Append.  I,  §  2d. 


KINDS    OF    MOTIVES.  ^  ,     215 

of  direct  efficiency.  Tlie  causation  spoken  of  is  not,  prop- 
erly speaking,  efficient.  The  word  cause  in  this  case,  (if  we 
wish  to  announce  the  fact  and  the  fact  only,)  can  ipean 
nothing  more  than  the  preparatory  condition,  circumstance,  or 
occasion;  a  sort  of  antecedent  incident  to  tljat,  which  takes 
place.  It  is  the  more  important  to  keep  this  remark  in  mind, 
since,,  without  the  qualification  implied  in  it,  it  may  he  diffi- 
cult to  perceive,  how  man  can  be  regarded  as  a  free  and  ac- 
countable agent.  Accordingly,whenever  we  speak  of  motives 
as  influencing,  controlling,  or  causing  volition,  it  is  to  be 
understood,  that  we  mean  merely  to  express  the  simple  and 
unquestioned  fact  of  their  being  conditions  preparatory  and 
prerequisite  to  the  will's  action;  With  this  import  of  the 
terms,  we  obviously  in  such  cases  assert  that,  which  is  true, 
and  which  as  a  truth  is  important  to  be  known  and  to  be 
realized;  and  at  the  same  time  assert  nothing,  which  is  in- 
consistent with  moral  liberty  and  accountability. 

§.   138.   Of  the  wilVs  being  governed  by  the  strongest  motive. 

It  is  sometimes  said,  that  the  will  is  governed  by  the 
strongest  motive,  and  is  necessarily  so  governed;  or  stated 
in  another  manner  perhaps  less  exceptionable,  that  the  will 
acts  in  view  of  the  strongest  motive,  and  necessarily  so  acts. 
Although  this  proposition,  which  has  the  appearance  of  being 
a  self-evident  one  and  perhaps  is  so,  has  sometimes  been 
adduced  with  great  confidence  in  support  of  the  general  doc- 
trine, that  the  will  has  its  laws;  it  will  be  perceived,  that 
we  have  not  availed  ourselves,  in  the  discussion  of  that  sub- 
ject, of  the  aid  more  or  less,  which  it  may  be  supposed  to 
furnish.  ,  We  fully. believed,  that  there  were  arguments 
enough  and  more  than  enough  without  relying  upon  this 
proposition;  saying  nothing  of  the  probability,  that  the  pro- 
position itself  would  be  found  on  examination  liable  to  some 


21B       ,         ,  NATURE    AND 

strictures   and  exceptions.     The  views  we  entertain   in  re- 
gard to  it  are  briefly  these.  • 

(I)  The  epithet  strong,  and  also  its  comparative  forms 
STRONGER  and  STRONGEST,  imply  something. relative.  They 
unquestionably  indicate  a  comparison  with  something  else,* 
which  is  weak,  or  which  is  less  strong.  The  proposition, 
therefore,  that  the  will  always  and  invariably  acts  in  confor- 
mity with  the  strongest  motive,  acknowledges  the  idea,  and 
is  based  upon  it,  that  motives  are  truly  susceptible  of  a  com- 
parison with  each  other.  And'  this  is  the  fact. (2)  Mo- 
tives may  be  compared  together  in  two  ways,  and  in  only 
two  ways;  viz,  either  directly  by  themselves,  or  indirectly 
by  means  of  their  results.  Accordingly  all  motives  of  the 
same  kind,  .(for  instance,  all  those  which  have  been  classed 
together  and  arranged  under  the  one  head  of  personal  mo- 
tives,) are  undoubtedly  susceptible  of  a  comparison  with 
each  other;  not  remotely  merely,  but  dir^edly  and  immediately. 
The  same  consciousness,  which  assures  us  of  the  existence 
of  the  motives  themselves,  indicates  clearly  the  difference  of 
their  intensity  or  strength;  and  we  cei^  say  with  a  degree 
of  precision  and  with  a  full  understanding  of  what  is  "meant, 
that  one  motive  is  deeper  or  more  intense  or  stronger  than 
another,  when  such  motives  are  the  sole,  exclusive,  and  di- 
rect subjects  of  comparison.-^— This  is  a  matter  of  con- 
sciousness. And  if  all  the  motives,  which  exist  and  operate 
in  the  human  breast,  were  the  same  in  hind,  it  would  also  be 
a  matter  of  consciousness,  and  as  such  it  would  be  a  prima- 
ry and  undeniable  truth,  that  the  acts  of  the  will  are  always 
in  conformity  with  the  strongest  motive.  The  proposition 
then  would  have  meaning,  and  be  unanswerable ;  ajid  to  the 
full  extent  implied  in  th6se  remarks,  such  is  the  case  at  pres- 
ent But  still  it  is  not  an  universal  one,  and  it  therefore 
seems  to  us  to  be  defective,  when  brought  as  an  argument  in 
illustration  of  the  absolute  and  universal  nature  of  the  will. 


KINDS    OF    MOTIVES.  )B17 

— -(3)  Motives,  which  belong  to  different  classes  or  kinds, 
(for  instance  personal  and  moral  motives,)  are  liot  the  sub- 
jects of  direct  comparison.  They  are  radically  and  entirely 
distinct  from  each  other;  and  there  is  no  more  possibility  of 
their  being  brought  into  direct  juxta-position  and  comparison, 
than  there  is  of  other  things  entirely  distinct  from  each  oth- 
er, such  as  association  and  belief,  memory  and  perception, 
sympathy  and  hatred,  or  a  circle  and  a  square,  red  and  white^ 
&c.  The  way,  then,  and  the  only  way,  in  which  we  can 
compare  moral  motives  with  personal  motives,  which  are 
entirely  distinct  from  each  other  in  kind,  is  through  the 
medium  of  their  bearing  and  results  upon  the  will.  If  the 
will  acts  in  conformity  with  the  moral  motive,  we  say 
that  the  moral  motive  is  the  strongest;  if  it  acts  in  conformi- 
ty with  the  personal  motive,  we  assert  the  Reverse.  But  if 
the  result,  (that  is  to  say,  the  volition,)  is  the  measure  of  the 
intensity,  when  motives,  differing  in  kind,  are  compared  to- 
gether, then  in  all  cases  of  this  description,  to  say  that  the 
will  is  governed  by  the  strongest  motive  is  an  identical  prop- 
osition, and  imports  the  same  as  to  say,  that  the  will  is  gov- 
ed  by  the  motive  by  which  it  is  governed. 

If  we  reflect  carefully  upon  the  foregoing  statement,  we 
shall  undoubtedly  find  it  to  be  so.  When  one  motive  is  de- 
signated as  the  strongest  in  comparison  with  another  differ- 
ing in  kind,  it  is  because  the  will  acts  in  conformity  with 
such  motive.  In  all  such  cases,  therefore,  the  strength  of 
the  motive  is  not  a  thing,  which  is  ascertained  an^  measured 
in  itself  through  the  medium  of  our  consciousness,  but  is 
relative  to  the  fact  of  the  wilPs  heing  governed  hy  the  motive, 
as  it  is  commonly  expressed.  But  if  the  fact  of  the  will's 
being  governed  by  a  particular  motive,  and  that  circum- 
stance alone,  (which  seems  at  least  to  be  the  case  in  respect 
to  all  motives  differing  in  kind,)  ascertains  such  motive  to  be 
'  »  28. 


219  NATURE    AND 

the  strongest,  then  certainly  the  declaration,  that  the  will  is 
governed  by  the  strongest  motive,  is  in  effect  the  same  thing 
as  to  say,  that  the  will  is  governed  by  the  motive  by  which 
it  is  governed.  And  it  is  self  evident,  that  such  a  proposi- 
tion, which  may  be  resolved  into  one  of  still  greater  celebri- 
ty, viz,  WHATEVER  IS,  IS,  can  prove  nothing  in  respect  to  the 
true  and  universal  nature  of  the  will. 

§.  139.    Of  the  elements  of  the  contest  within. 

What  has  been  said  in  this  chapter,  opens,  in  various  respects, 
an  impressive  and  fruitful  view  of  man's  character.  We  find 
in  the  two  classes  of  motives,  the  natural  or  personal  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  moral  on  the  other,  the  embryo  of  two 
conflicting  principles,  the  fountain  of  sweet  and  of  bitter 
waters,  the  basis  of  an  internal  hostility  renewable  every 
day  and  every  hour.  It  is  an  indisputable  position,  and  one 
which  furnishes  food  for  serious  reflection,  that  every  man's 
bosom, (whatever  difficulties  may  attend  the  explanation  of  the 
origin  of  this  state  of  things,)  is  a  moral  battle-field  contin- 
ually set  in  array.  Here  is  the  theatre  of  that  contest, 
which  the  Apostle  so  feelingly  speaks  of,  a  law  in  the  members 
warring  against  the  law  of  the  mind;  and  which,  in  its  dark 
and  trying  moments,  compelled  him  to  cry  out  in  anguish, 
"  Oh,  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the 
body  of  this  death?  "  Here  is  the  seat  of  virtues,  which  as- 
similate us  to  angels,  and  prepare  us  for  glory ;  and  of  vices, 
which  liken  us  to  spirits  of  darkness,  and  are  the  forerunners 
of  everlasting  shame  and  contempt.  Principles  of  eternal 
opposition,  the  Oromazes  and  Arimanius  of  the  enigmatical 
philosophy  of  the  Persians,  are  shut  up  together,  destined  to 
contend  with  a  strife,  which  cannot  cease,  till  the  one  or  the 
other  is  destroyed. 

It  will  be   noticed,  that  we  state  merely  the  fact  of  such 
an  internal  contest,  without  attempting  to  explain  the  man- 


KINDS    OF    MOTIVES.  219 

ner  of  its  origin.  Whether  there  be  in  men  principles, 
which  are  naturally  and  originally  evil  ;  ot  whether  the  evil 
exists,  not  so  much  in  the  nature,  as  it  does  in  the  unrepres- 
sed  and  inordinate  tendencies  of  those  principles,  are  ques- 
tions, upon  which  we  do  not  feel  required  by  the  present 
discussion  to  offer  any  opinion.  Indeed,  m  some  of  their 
aspects,  they  are  questions,  which  belong  to  the  deep  things 
of  Gqd,  and  which  may  be  expected,  in  all  ages  to  come  as 
in  all  ages  past,  to  set  at  nought  the  capabilities,  and  to  con- 
found the  pride  of  human  reason.  But  whatever  ground  may 
be  taken  on  this  matter,  and  however  it  may  be  explained, 
whatever  may  be  satisfactorily  explored  and  whatever  may 
continue  to  be  left  in  darkness,  it  still  remains  true,  that 
there  is  an  internal  contest;  that  there  are  elements,  which, 
in  the  present  state  of  things,  will  always  be  found  conflic- 
ting with  each  other;  the  calm  efifulgeiice  of  conscience 
struggling  against  the  consuming'fires  of  unholy  passion; 
and  a  delight  in  the  law  of  God  striving  against  the  aggres- 
sions of  another  antagonist  principle  spoken  of  by  the  Apos- 
tle, which  brings  men  into  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin.  The 
history  of  the  human  race  sustains  this  view  ;  the  philoso- 
phy of  the  mind  concurs  in  it;  and  it  is  stamped  more  or 
less  clearly  on  every  part  of  the  Bible,  from  the  temptation 
and  the  sin  of  Eden  to  the  historj^  of  the  Seven  Churches  of 
the  Apocalypse.  It  must  be  obvious  even  to  the  most  casual 
observer,  that  men  are  every  where  represented  in  the 
Scriptures  as  endued  with  capacities  of  right  and  wrong,  of 
mqral  good  and  evil ;  as  placed  in  a  state  of  probation  and  trial, 
which  is  preparatory  to  another  state  of  existence;  and  as 
exhibiting  in  their  hearts  and  lives,  at  one  time,  the  predom- 
inance of  vice,  and  at  another,  the  ascendency  of  virtue. 
And  it  is. an  interesting  consideration,  that  the  eye  of  God, 
and  the  eye  of  angels,  (to  say  nothing  of  the  watchful  solici- 
tude of  the  prince  and  the  powers  of  darkness,)  is  intently 


220  NATURE    AND    KINDS    QF    MOTIVES. 

fixed  on  this  belligerent  attitude  and  concussion  of  the  men- 
tal elements.  And  happy  is  he,  who  fully  understands  the 
nature  and  the  consequences  of  this  great  contest;  the  duty 
and  the  rewards  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  sin  and  the  dan- 
ger on  the  other!  And  thrice  happy,  if  he  carries  on  the 
contest,  in  all  its  vicissitudes  and  in  all  its  length  and 
breadth,  with  a  humble  reliance  for  wisdom  and  strength  on 
that  Brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  who  made  himself  of 
no  reputation,  and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and 
was  made  in  the  likeness  of  men,  and  was  tempted  in  all 
points  as  we  are,  and  yet  without  sin. 


PART   THIRK 


FREEDOM  OF  THE  WILL 


CHAPTER  FIRST. 


NATURE  OF  MENTAL  FREEDOM. 


^ .  1 40.   Of  bodily  in  distinction  from  mental  freedom. 

Having  thus,  in  the  second  Part  of  this  Work,  assigned 
our  reasons  in  support  of  the  proposition,  that  the  will  ha» 
ITS  LAWS,  we  next  naturally  proceed  to  consider  the  subject 
of  its  Freedom;  a  subject  of  perhaps  equal  importance  and 
difficulty,  and' resting  upon  its  own  appropriate  and  specific 
grounds.— It  has  sometimes  been  the  method  of  writers  on 
the  Freedom  of  the  will  to  introduce  the  subject  with  remarks 
in  illustration  of  what  may  be  termed  bodily ,  in  distinction 
from  mental  freedom.  Although  there  is  no  such  analogy, 
between  mental  and  bodily  freedom  as  to  enable  us  to  dif- 
fuse much  light  from  one  to  the  other,  it  may  not  be  lost 
time  to  offer  a  few  remarks  in  explanation  of  what  is  meant 
by  freedom  of  the  latter  kind. — Bodily  freedom  appears  to 
consist  in  an  exemption  from  any  restraint  on  the  corporeal 
action.  So  far  as  we  are  capable  of  putting  forth  any  out- 
ward action  at  all,  in  accordance  with  some  antecedent  voli- 
tion, so  far  are  we  in  the  actual  possession  and  enjoyment  of 


y    ^4  '  NATURE  OF 

corporeal  liberty. — And  on  the  other  hand  inability  of  cor- 
poreal action,  where  the  volition  prompts  us  to  make  the  at- 
tempt, may  be  regarded  as  a  sort  of  slavery  of  the  body. 
Accordingly  he,  who  is  shut  up  within  the  massy  walls  and 
.  doors  of  a  prison  which  he  cannot  possibly  pass;  he,  who  is 
the  subject  of  a  weakening  and  paralyzing  disease  which 
confines  him  to  his  chamber  and  his  bed;  he,  who  is  thrown 
from  a  precipice,  and  in  his  descent  is  obviously  incapable  of 
a  contriatry  or  upward  motion;  and  all  others  in  a  like  situa- 
tion, whether  it  be  from  an  abstraction  of  internal  power  or 
the  presence  of  some  outward  impediment,  may  with  propri- 
ety be  described,  to  the  extent  of  their  inability  to  conform 
their  outward  actions,  to  the  requisitions  of  the  will,  as  des^ 
.  titute  of  freedom;  or  what  is  the  same  thing  as  the  subjects 
of  necessity  or  enthtalmentj  in  the  bodily  or  corporeal  sense 
of  enthralment  or  freedom.      ^ 

And  this  is  all  we  have  to  say  on  the  subject,  because  ac^ 
cording  to  the  views  we  entertain  in  relation  to  it,  bodily 
freedom  or  enthralment,  which  is  a  matter  perfectly  well  un-» 
derstood  and  beyond  all  reach  of  controversy,  throws  no 
light  at  all,  or  at  least  but  a  feeble  ray,  upon  the  nature  of 
the  enthralment  or  liberty  of  the  mind. 

§,  141.   Of  unsuccessful  attempts  to  explain  the  nature  of 
freedom. 

Accordingly  for  the  reason  above  intimated  it  will  be 
understpod,  that  in  what  we  have  to  say  of  Freedom,we  mean 
freedom  or  liberty  of  the  mind.  Mental  freedom  has  a  na- 
ture appropriate  to  itself;  it  possesses  an  identity  and  a  char- 
acter of  its  own;  and  it  is  not  only  an  entirely  distinct  thing, 
but  undoubtedly  is  far  more  important  than  any  mere  liber- 
ty or  enthralment  of  the  body. 

In  discussing  the  subject  of  the  freedom  of  the  mind,  (a 
phrase  which  we   use  as   entirely  synonymous  with  liberty 


W\ 


MENTAL    FREEDOM.  Z2b 

of  the  mind,)  the  inquiry  first  presenting  itself  is,  what  are 
we  to  understand  by  the  term  freedom?    This  is  a  question, 
which  seems  to  have  been  asked,  and  to  hare  elicited  more 
or  less  attention,   in  almost  every  age  of  the  world.     It  is 
probably  no   exaggeration  to  say,  that  many  volumes  have 
been  written  in  illustration  of  the  import  of  this  single  term. 
The  prolific  suggestions  of  the  imagination  and  the  ingen- 
ious speculations  of  the  reasoning  power  have  been  put  in 
requisition  for  this   purpose.     And  if  to  a  considerable  de- 
gree all  these  efforts  have  proved  unsuccessful,  may  we  not 
suppose,  that  it  is  owing,  in  part  at  least,  to  mistaken  meth- 
ods of  inquiry  ?    Or  perhaps,  if  right  methods  have  been 
pursued,  the  limits,  which  in  the  nature  of  things  intercept 
and  restrict  their  successful  application,  may  not  have  been 
fully  perceived.     Certain  it  is,  whatever  flattering  anticipa- 
tions may  be  entertained,  and  justly  entertained  too,  of  the 
progress  of  the  human  mind,  there  are  some  limits,  which  it 
cannot  pass.     And   perhaps  it   is  a   charitable  supposition, 
that  many  writers  on  this  subject,  in  consequence  of  imper- 
fect apprehensions  of  the  boundaries  encircling  and  restric- 
ting the  efforts  of  the  intellect,  have  attempted  too  much,and 
have  therefore  failed  in  satisfactorily- establishing  any  things 

§.  142.  Freedom  the  name  of  a  simple  abstract  idea. 

We  have  the  authority  of  Mr.  Locke  for  saying,  (a  posi- 
tion in  which  he  is  amply  sustained  b}^  other  writers  on  the 
Philosophy  of  the  Mind,)  that  all  our  ideas  may  be  divided 
into  the  two  classes  of  Simple  and  Complex.  Accordingly 
when  we  have  fixed  our  attention  upon  any  distinct  subject 
of  contemplation,  and  have  resolved  it  into  its  parts,  and 
have  distinctly  traced  those  parts  to  a  position,  where  there 
is  no  longer  a  possibility  of  a  separation  of  them,  we  have 
then  reached  a  boundary  of  analysis,  which  it  is  not  within 


22Q  NATURE    OF 

the  capacity  of  the  human  mind  to  go  beyond.  The  ele- 
ments of  thought,  which  are  disclosed  in  the  issue  of  such  a 
process,  are  entirely  simple.  Truly  elementary  and  ulti- 
mate, they  are  deposited  as  deeply  and  strongly  in  the  foun- 
dations of  the  edifice  of  intellectual  perception,  as  it  is  pos- 
sible for  them  to  be.  They  are  to  be  regarded,  therefore, 
as  constituting  knowledge,  and  that  too  of  the  highest  kind, 
although  it  is  equally  true,  that  they  are  not  susceptible  of 
explanation,  and  that  the  person,  who  does  not  know  them 
of  himself  and  by  virtue  of  his  own  mental  action,  can  never 
know  them  from  any  other  source. 

And  in  accordance  with  these  views,  our  first  remark  in 
illustration  of  the  nature  of  freedom  or  liberty  is,  that  the 
term,  when  it  is  used  abstractly,  is  the  name  of  a  simple 
thought  or  idea  J  the  knowledge  of  which  we  can  derive  from 
the  mind  itself  alone.  This  remark  we  consider  of  no  small 
importance,  since  it  has  a  direct  bearing  on  all  attempts  at  a 
verbal  explanation  of  freedom  ;  and  indicates  the  possibility 

of  such  attempts  being  utterly  futile. In  taking  this  view, 

which  we  fully  believe  to  be  the  only  correct  one,  we  are 
not  wholly  without  the  concurrence  and  authority  of  other 
writers.  "  La  liberte,  (says  Thery  in  the  Treatise  referred 
to  in  the  first  Part  of  this  work,)  est  indetermine  meme.  Comme 
tout  ce  qui  est  simpley  elle  nepeut  se  dejiner.^^ 

§,  143.  Occasions  of  the  origin  of  the  abstract  idea  of  liberty,  . 

But  in  respect  to  all  abstract  notions  or  thoughts,  (and 
the  mere  idea  or  conception  of  liberty  is  one  of  this  kind,) 
there  are  two  questions  naturally  presenting  themselves  ; 
the  one  just  now  remarked  upon,  whether  the  notion  is  sim- 
ple or  complex  ;  the  other,  what  is  the  occasion  on  which  it 
arises.  The  occasion,  on  which  the  abstract  idea  of  freedom 
is  suggested  to  the  intellect  and  becomes  a  part  of  our 
knowledge,  is  nothing  else  than  the  mind's  action  itself,  in 


MENTAL    FREEDOM.  221 

those  favoured  moments  when  its  operations  are  in  fact  free. 
At  such  times' we  jb'C"course  have  a  consciousness  of  what  is 
in  reality  the  fact,  viz.  of  the  mind's  operating  in  the  pre- 
scribed sphere  of  its  action,without  impediment  or  hindrance. 
And  it  is  then,  that  the  abstract  idea  or  notion  of  freedom 
arises  or  is  evolved,  (if  we  may  be  allowed  so  to  speak,)  by 
what  may  appropriately  be  called  the  power  of  Original  Sug- 
gestion, in  the  same  manner  as  the  abstract  ideas  of  existence, 
identity,  duration,  space  intelligence,  power,  right,  wrong, 
and  a  considerable  number  of  others. 

The  fact  and  realization  of  our  existence  is  the  occasion, 
on  which  the  abstract  idea  of  existence  or  being  in  general 
is  brought  up,  (or  to  employ  what  may  be  called  the  technical 
term  in  the  case,)  is  suggested  to  the  mind.  The  fact  and  the 
realization  of  power  in  ourselves  is  the  occasion,  on  which 
the  abstract  notion  of  power,  which  everyone  distinctly 
possesses,  is  suggested.  And  in  like  manner,  whenever 
there  is  liberty  of  the  mind  in  fact  and  in  actual  realization, 
we  are  so  constituted,  that  we  are  always,  and  without  any 
effort  on  our  own  part  put  in  distinct  possession  of  the 
abstract  idea  of  liberty. 

§.  144.   Of  the  undejinableness  of  the  term  freedom. 

Now  if  such  be  the  origin  of  the  abstract  notion  of  free- 
dom, and  if  it  be  the  name  of  a  sim.ple  and  not  a  complex  idea, 
(as  certainly  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  it  to  be  so,) 
then  every  one,  who  speaks  of  freedom  or  enters  into  a  dis- 
cussion upon  it,  must  be  supposed  to  know  of  himself  what 
freedom  is.  Certain  it  is  if  he  pleads  ignorance  of  the  import 
of  the  term,  we  shall  find  ourselves  wholly  unable  to  make  it 
known  to  him  by  any  statements  in  language.  It  being  the 
name  of  a  simple  idea,  if  we  attempt  to  define  it  we  must 
necessarily  employ  synonymous  terms,  and  which  require  au 
explanation  no  less  than  the  one  in  question.  Every  definition 


229  NATURE    OF 

of  the  name  of  a  simple  idea,  which  is  not  a  synonym  of 
the  word  itself  or  a  synonymous  phrase,  is  necessarily 
erroneous.  And  as  a  synonym  or  synonymous  phrase 
cannot  at  all  give  us  any  new  light  in  the  matter,  we  are 
necessarily  thrown  back  upon  our  own  experience  for  a 
knowledge  of  the  thing  under  inquiry. 

§.  145.   Supposed  definitions  of  freedom  mere  synonyms. 

It  may  perhaps  be  useful  to  introduce  one  or  two  instances 
of  definitions,  which  have  been  given  by  leading  writers  on 
the  subject,  in  illustration  and  proof  of  our  remark,  that  the 
term  in  question  cannot  be  defined.  Mr  Hobbes  defines  it 
as  follows.  "  Liberty  is  the  absence  of  all  impediments  to  ac- 
tion, that  are  not  contained  in  the  nature  and  intrinsic  qual- 
ity of  the  agent."  But  the  phrase  absence  of  all  impediments 
is  obviously  synonymous  with  liberty,  and  conveys  no  new 
idea.  So  that  the  definition,  substituting  other  terms, 
amounts  to  this,  and  this  merely  ;  that  freedom  is  that  liberty 
to  action,  which  is  contained  in  or  permitted  by  the  nature 
and  intrinsic  quality  of  the  agent. Bufiier  gives  the  fol- 
lowing definition.  "Liberty  is  the  disposition  a  man  feels 
within  himself,  of  his  capacity  to  act  or  not  to  act,  to  choose 
or  not  to  choose  a  thing,  at  the  same  moment,"  Here  the 
term  capacity  appears  to  be  the  synonymous  expression.  So 
that  if  we  carefully  reflect  upon  this  definition,  we  shall 
probably  find  it  amounting  to  merely  this  ;  Liberty  is  the 
consciousness  a  man  has  of  his  freedom  to  act  or  not  to  act, 

to  choose  or  not  to  choose. The  definition,  given  by 

Dr.  Jleid,  is  this.  "  By  the  liberty  of  a  moral  agent,  I  un- 
derstand, a  POWER  over  the  determinations  of  his  own  will." 
It  is  difiicult  to  make  any  thing  of  this  definition,  because  it 
seems  to  imply  the  existence  of  a  will  back  of  that,whose  deci- 
sions are  the  immediate  precursors  of  voluntary  action.  If 
it  dp  not  imply  this,  then  all  that  is  meant  iS;  that  the  liberty 


MENTAL    FREEDOM.  •  229 

of  a  moral  agent  is  his  power  to  put  forth  voluntary  deter- 
minations or  acts  of  the  will.  And  in  that  case  power  is  the 
synonymous  expression  ;  and  if  it  be  not  so,  the  difficulty  is 
not  at  all  removed  ;  for,  if  we  suppose  it  to  have  a  distinct 
meaning  from  liberty,  that  idea  or  meaning,  whatever  it  may 
be,  is  simple  and  undefinable. 

But  it  is  unnecessary  to  remark  further.  According  to 
the  best  reflections  we  have  been  able  to  bestow,  it  is  alto- 
gether useless  to  give  a  definition  of  liberty,  because  it  is 
in  the  nature  of  the  case  impossible  to  do  it;  and  is  unadvi- 
sable  also,  because  every  supposed  definition,  so  far  from 
settling  the  subject,  has  been  generally  found  to  leave  it 
open  to  long  controversies  and  disputes. 

§.  146.  Distinction  between  the  idea  and  reality  of  liberty. 

But  a  distinction  is  to  be  made,  which  has  already  been 
hinted  at,  between  the  mere  notion,  the  abstract  idea  of 
freedom  and  freedom  itself;  between  the  conception  of  it  as 
an  object  of  thought,  and  the  possession  of  it  as  a  reality 
and  a  matter  of  personal  experience.  We  may  have  the  ab- 
stract idea  of  freedom,  just  as  we  have  the  abstract  concep- 
tion of  power;  and  we  may  reason  upon  the  abstraction  of 
freedom  just  as  we  reason  upon  the  abstract  idea  or  abstrac- 
tion of  power,  without  possessing  either  freedom  or  power 
in^ourselves. 

The  idea  of  liberty  in  the  abstract  is  the  result,  the  sug- 
gestion, or  the  creature  even,  of  what  is  sometimes  called 
the  pure  intellect  ;  that  is  to  say,  it  is  the  result  or  sugges- 
tion of  intellectual  operations,  which  appear  to  be  the  most 
disconnected  and  removed  from  external  material  impressions. 
And  as  such,  it  is  truly  an  intellectual  entity;  a  real  and 
distinct  object  of  contemplation,  of  knowledge,  of  reasoning. 
But  after  all  it  is  to  be  noticed,  that  this  is  merely  the  idea 
of  the  thing,  and  not  the  thing  itself;  it  is  the  intellectual 


w 


230  NATURE  OF 

representative  of  liberty,  but  not  the  experience  and  the  re- 
ality of  liberty  ;  it  is  that  which  the  veriest  mental  slave 
may  conceive  of  and  may  speculate  upon,  as  an  object  naked^.. 
ly  and  coldly  suspended  in  the  distance  ;  but  which  is  very 
different  from  that,  which  the  person,  who  actually  possesses 
freedom,  realizes  as  a  thing  near  at  hand,  and  enjoys  as  his 
own  valued  and  personal  possessioii'.   .•  ".  •  •Ctj*:;/  .,   •;  .v  .  ' 

§.  147.   Of  the  source  of  our  knowledge  ofliheriy  itself  in  dis- 
tinction from  the  abstract  idea  of  liberty. 

Of  liberty  in  itself,  in  distinction  from  the  abstract  idea  of 
liberty  ;  in  other  words,  of  freedom  in  the  actual  state  of  re- 
alization, we  can  have  a  knowledge  by  Consciousness,  and 
by  that  alone.  If  a  man,  (we  speak  now  of  the  mind  of  man 
and  not  of  his  body,  and  of  the  mind  in  a  condition  of  men- 
tal soundness,  and  not  in  a  state  of  either  total  or  partial  in-  ^2^ 
sanity,)  truly  feels  himself  to  be  free,  we  seem  to  have  no 
alternative  but  to  take  it  for  granted  that  he  is  so.  This  is 
something  ultimate;  we  cannot  go  beyond  nor  around  it  ; 
being  based  upon  an  original  and  ultimate  feeling,  it  is  of 
course  founded  in  one  of  the  deepest  and  surest  sources  of 
knowledge;  and  we  are  under  a  sort  of  necessity,  therefore, 
of  admitting,  that  the  consciousness  and  the  realization,  the 
knowledge  and  the  fact  go  together. 

And  in  connection  with  this  view,  we  shall  not  hesitate 
to  assume,  that  each  one  is]  not  only  disposed  to  consult  his 
consciousness,  but  to  rely  confidently  on  its  intimations. 
We  make  this  assumption,  because  we  know  of  no  other 
way  in  which  it  is  possible  for  him,  on  a  subject  of  this  na- 
ture, to  arrive  at  distinct  and  satisfactory  conclusions  for 
himself,  or  to  understand  the  statements  of  others.  If  free- 
dom, in  its  essence  and  realization,  is  what  it  is  known  to  be 
in  our  consciousness,  and  that  too  without  the  possibility  of 
its  being  any  thing  else,  then  surely,  however  difficult  it  may 


MENTAL    FREEDOM.  281 

be  to  give  a  definition  of  the  abstract  idea  of  freedom,  we 
may  enter  on  the  examination  of  the  subject-matter  before 
us  with  entire  confidence,  since  it  is  one,  according  to  the 
view  now  given,  which  necessarily  comes  within  the  range 
of  each  one's  personal  knowledge. 

§.  143.   Of  the  precise  import  of  the  phrase  moral  liberty. 

We  close  the  suggestions  of  this  chapter  with^a  single 
remark  more. — It  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  persons  using  the 
phrase  moral  liberty;  and  particularly  in  its  applications  to 
man.  But  the  thought  naturally  arises,  what  is  the  distinc- 
tion between  moral  liberty  and  any  other  liberty  ?  To 
this  inquiry  it  may  be  answered,  that  the  phrase  moral  lib- 
erty indicates  not  a  difference  in  the  essence  of  liberty  or  in 
the  liberty  itself,  which  we  have  reason  to  believe  is  the 
same,  so  far  as  it  exists  at  all,  in  all  beings  whatever  from 
the  highest  to  the  lowest;  but  must  be  understood  to  express 
merely  a  difference  in  the  capacity  or  sphere  of  the  mind,  of 
which  it  is  predicable.  The  liberty  of  brutes  is  as  perfect 
in  its  sphere,  as  that  of  men  or  angels.  As  they  roam  in  for- 
ests and  mountain  wildernesses,  or  swim  in  the  depths  of  the 
.ocean,  or  fly  and  gaily  sing  in  the  radiant,  fields  of  the  sum- 
mer's sky,  they  are  free;  they  rejoice  in  their  freedom  ;  and 
prize  it  as  one  of  heaven's  best  gifts.  But  we  never  think 
of  ascribing  to  them  moral  liberty,  simply  because,  so  far  as 
we  are  able  to  learn,  they  have  not  a  moral  nature,  as  man 
has.  The  sphere  of  man's  liberty  is  enlarged  so  as  to  em- 
brace moral  considerations^  those  feelings  of  approval,  disap- 
proval, and  moral  obligation,  which  are  implied  in  moral 
accountability.  Accordingly  when  we  speak  of  man's  moral 
liberty,  or  of  man  as  morally  free,  we  mean  merely  to  ex- 
press the  fact,  that  man  is  a  free  being,  the  sphere  of  whose 
liberty  and  action  is  so  enlarged  as  to  embrace  moral  con- 
siderationiB  or  moral  principles  of  action. 


CHAPTER  SECOND 


MENTAL  HARMONY  THE    BASIS  OR  OCCASION 
OF  MENTAL  FREEDOM. 


§.  149.  Statement  of  the  inquiry  in  this  chapter. 

What  has  been  said  so  far  on  the  general  subject  of  Liberty- 
relates  to  the  abstract  idea  of  liberty,  the  origin  and  nature 
of  that  idea,  the  realization  or  actual  existence  of  liberty  in 
ourselves  in  distinction  from  the  mere  abstract  notion,and  the 
manner  in  which  we  have  a  knowledge  of  liberty  thus  exis- 
ting in  ourselves;  viz,  by  Consciousness.  It  is  a  distinct 
inquiry,  (and  undoubtedly  one  worthy  of  some  attention,) 
what  that  precise  state  of  mind  is,  in  connection  with  which' 
liberty  exists.  In  other  words,  what  are  the  precise  condi- 
tions or  prerequisites  of  mind,  essential  to  mental  liberty  ? 
If  we  are  at  liberty  to  suppose,  as  undoubtedly  we  are, 
that  there  are  or  may  be  certain  circumstances  or  conditions 
of  the  mind,  which  are  inconsistent  with  its  freedom,  it 
seems  naturally  to  follow,  that  there  are  other  circumstances 
or  conditions,  upon  which  its  freedom,  whenever  it  exists,  is 
based,  or  which  are  essential  to  it.  What  are  these  precise 
circumstances  ?    What  is  this  precise  situation  of  the  mind  ? 


THE    BASIS    OF    MENTAL    FREEDOM.        2SS 

We  are  awarp,  that  this  is  a  question,  which  it  is  more 
easy  to  propose,  than  satisfactorily  to  resolve.  At  any  rate 
it  is  probable,  that  different  persons  would  resolve  it  in  dif- 
ferent ways.  In  giving  an  opinion  therefore  on  this  subject, 
which  we  cannot  well  avoid  doing,  we  wish  to  he  understood, 
as  fully  admitting,  that  the  views  of  others  may  be  found  on 
examination  to  be  equally  satisfactory,  and  perhaps  more  so. 
With  this  remark  we  shall  state  explicitly  what  our  opinion 
is;  premising  particularly,  however,  that  we  are  now  speak- 
ing of  freedom  as  existing  in  the  highest  degree j  or  the  perfec- 
tion of  freedom. 

§.  ISO.  Occasions  on  which  liberty  exists. 

If  men  will  but  carefully  inquire  and  consider,  they  will 
not  fail  to  perceive,  that  all  things  are  in  harmony,  or  were 
designed  to  be  so.  There  is  a  harmony  of  the  various  parts 
of  the  external  world  ;  there  is  a  harmony  of  the  parts  of 
the  human  body  ;  there  is  also  a  harmony  of  the  mind  ;  by 
which  we  mean  there  is  a  perfect  symmetry  and  adaptation 
of  the  parts  of  the  mind,  each  part  being  appointed  to  operate 
in  its  appropriate  sphere;  and,  so  far  as  it  fulfils  the  inten- 
tions of  nature,  never  infringing  upon  another  part,-  whose 
sphere  of  operation  is  different.  Now  when  each  part  oper- 
ates in  this  way;  when  there  is  truly  a  harmony  of  move- 
ment, every  thing  being  equable,  proportionate,  and  in  its 
proper  place  ;  when  each  power  performs  its  functions  with- 
out any  unavoidable  perplexity  existing  in  itself  or  any  in- 
fringement originating  from  some  other  source,  we  are  then 
conscious  of  liberty  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  term.  He^ 
who  has  no  knowledge  of  liberty  at  such  a  time,  never  will 
have;  and  it  is  wholly  useless  to  reason  with  such  a  person 
on  this  subject.  The  consciousness  of  liberty,  which  natural- 
ly exists  under  such  circumstances,  is  the  only  source  of  our 
»       .  30 


li 


234  MENTAL  HARMONY 

knowledge  in  relation  to  it.  A  thousand,  mere  speculations 
could  never  furnish  the  information  which  we  have  from  that 
source  ;  nor  could  they  ever  have  weight  in  opposition  to 
the  authority  of  that  ultimate  tribunal. 

§.  151.   Of  the  circumstances  under  which  this  mental  harmony 
may  he  expected  to  exist. 

But  perhaps  it  majwbe  objected,  that  these  views,  how- 
ever plausible  they  may  be  in  theory,  are  useless  and  nuga- 
tory in  their  application,  because  there  is  no  role  or  measure, 
upon  which  the  internal  harmony  depends  and  to  which  it 
may  be  referred.  And  certainly  there  would  be  something 
in  such  a  suggestion,  if  it  were  well  founded.  But  we  think 
we  may  venture  to  say  it  is  not  so.  It  must,  however,  be  admit- 
ted, if  there  is  harmony  in  the  mind,  there  must  be  more"  or 
less  of  subordination  in  the  parts;  and  that  if  there  is  sub- 
ordination in  some  parts,  there  must  be  ascendancy  and  con- 
trol somewhere  else.  And  this  leads  to  the  further  remark, 
that  it  seems  to  be  a  proposition,  satisfactorily  established  by 
writers  on  mental  philosophy,  that  Conscience  is,  in  some 
sense  of  the  term,  a  governing  and  controlling  power  of  the 
mind.  Harmony,  as  it  is  capable  of  existing  and  is  required 
to  exist  in  the  human  mind,  is  by  the  appointment  of  God; 
and  CONSCIENCE,  as  the  vicegerent  of  God  in  the  human 
breast,  indicates  and  rewards  the  fulfilment  of  this  benevo- 
lent purpose. Conscience,  however,  is  not  so  much  a  gov- 
erning power  in  the  executive  as  in  the  legislative  sense  of 
the  term;  not  so  much  in  the  capacity  of  actually  carrying 
into  effect,  as  in  the  office  of  guiding,  prescribing,  and  reg- 
ulating. In  the  executive  sense  of  the  tferm  the  will  is  the 
presiding  and  controlling  power,  while  the  functions  of  con- 
science are  more  of  an  advisory  and  consultative  kind.  Ac- 
cordingly when  all  the  appetites,  propensities,  and  passions 


THE  BASIS  OF  MENTAL  FREEDOM  255 

are  kept  within  their  due  bounds,  we  are  reminded  of  this 
desirable  state  of  things,  and  are  encouraged  to  secure-  its 
permanency,  by  an  internal  approbation,  and  on  the  other 
hand)  if  they  exceed  those  limits,  we  feel  an  internal  reproof 
and  condemnation.  So  that  when  we  assert  the  harmony  of 
the  mental  acts  to  be  the  true  and  undoubted  occasion,  on 
which  we  are  conscious  of  the  existence  of  mental  freedom 
in  the  highest  degree,  it  is  essentially  the  same  as  to  say, 
that  the  occasion  of  this  consciousness  is  to  be  found  in  a 
condition  of  the  mental  acts  or  operations,  conformed  to  the 
requirements  of  conscience.  And  as  conscience  is  a  principle, 
Instituted  by  God  himself,and  is  designed  to  intimate  his  will, 
we  may  go  further  and  say,  that  the  occasion,  on  which  we 
are  conscious  of  mental  freedom  in  the  highest  degree,  is  to 
be  found  in  a  condition  of  the  mental  acts,  conformed  to  the 
requirements  of  the  Supreme  Being.  ~ 

It  is  conscience,  (ot  course  we  mean  an  enlightened  and 
right,  and  not  a  perverted  conscience,)  which,  acting  in  the 
name  of  the  great  author  of  the  mind,  marks  out  their  res- 
pective boundaries  to  its  various  powers  and  tendencies  ; 
which  says  to  this  appetite  and  that  desire,  to  this  propensi- 
ty and  that  passion,  thus  far  must  tiiou  go  and  no  further; 
.within  these  limits  your  operations  are  innocent,  beyond 
them  are  criminal;  within  them  there .  is  freedom,  beyond 
them  there  is  enthralment. 

§.  153.  Opinions  of  Bishop  Butler  on  conscience, 

A  number  of  English  writers  have  proposed  these  views, 
or  views  essentially  similar  to  them,  in  reference  to  con- 
science, particularly  Bishop  Butler.  In  his  celebrated  ser- 
mons on  Human  Nature  he  represents  conscience  as  distin- 
guishing between  the  internal  principles  of  man's  heart,  as 
well  as  between  his  external  actions  ;  as  passing  judgment 


236  MENTAL  HAEMONY 

both  upon  the  one  and  the  other;  as  pronouncing,  by  its 
own  proper  authority,  some  things  to  be  in  themselves  right 

and  good,  and  others  to  be  evil  and  wrong, Some  of  his 

illustrations  and  statements  are  as  follows.  "  Consider  all 
the  several  parts  of  a  tree  without  the  natural  respects  they 
have  to  each  other,  and  you  have  not  at  all  the  idea  of  a 
tree ;  but  add  these  respects,  and  this  gives  you  the  idea. 
The  body  may  be  impaired  by  sickness,  a  tree  may  decay,  a 
machine  be  out  of  order,  and  yet  the  system  and  constitu- 
tion of  them  not  totally  dissolved.  There  is  plainly  some- 
what which  answers  to  all  this  in  the  moral  constitution  of 
man.  Whoever  will  consider  his  own  nature,  will  see  that 
the  several  appetites,  passions,  and  particular  afFections,have 
different  respects  among  themselves.  They  are  restraints 
upon,  and  are  in  proportion  to  each  other.  This  proportion 
is  just  and  perfect,  when  all  those  under  principles  are 
perfectly  coincident  v/ith  conscience,  so  far  as  their  nature 
permits,  and  in  all  cases  under  its  absolute  and  entire  direc- 
tion. The  least  excess  or  defect,  the  least  alteration  of 
the  due  proportions  amongst  themselves,  or  of  their  co-inci- 
dence with  conscience,  though  not  proceeding  into  action, 
is  some  degree  of  disorder  in  the  moral  constitution."  * 

§.  153.  Reference  to  the  opinions  of  Dr.  Price  on  this  subject. 

As  this  view  of  the  true  occasion  or  basis  of  mental  free- 
dom may  be  attended  with  difficulties  in  the  minds  of  some, 
we  must  ask  the  patience  of  the  reader,  while  we  introduce 
to  his  notice  some  statements  from  the  writings  of  Dr.  Price. 
The  object;  for  which  the  passage  is  introduced,  will  be  kept 
in  recollection,  viz,  in  confirmation  of  the  doctrine,  that  the 
mind  is  constituted  on  the  principle  of  a  subordination  in  its 
parts,  and  that  there  exists  in  the  mind  itself  a  power,  which 

*  See  Butler's  2d  and  3d  Sermons  on  Human  Nature  and  the  JNote. 


'    THE  BASIS  OF  MENTAL  FREEDOM.  237 

indicates,  when  this  principle  is  conformed  to,  and  when  it 
is  violated.  In  other  words,  that  the  original  state  of  the 
mind  is  a  state  of  harmony,  and  that  there  is  in  the  mind  a 
power,  whose  appropriate  duty  it  is  to  indicate  the  devia- 
tions from  that  state  of  harmony.  As  to  what  that  power  is 
which  has  this  authority,  although  we  cannot  doubt  that  the 
view  of  Butler  is  entirely  the  correct  one,  that  is  a  matter, 
which  is  of  subordinate  consequence,  so  far  as  the  subject 
now  directly  before  us  is  concerned. 

"  The  conscience  of  a  man  is  the  man  ;  the  reflecting 
principle  is  our  supreme  principle.  It  is  what  gives  our  dis- 
tinction as  intelligent  creatures;  and  whenever  we  act  con- 
trary to  it,  we  violate  our  natures,  and  are  at  variance  with 
ourselves.  There  are  biasses  or  determinations  given  us  by 
the  author  of  our  beings  which  we  might  have  wanted,  and 
which  are  intended  to  be  subordinate  to  reason.  Now  lib- 
erty being  an  exemption  from  all  such  force  as  takes  away 
from  us  the  capacity  of  acting  as  we  think  best,  it  is  plain 
that  whenever  any  passion  becomes  predominant  within  us, 
or  causes  us  to  contradict  our  sentiments  of  rectitude,  we 
lose  our  liberty,  and  fall  into  a  state  of  slavery.  When  any 
one  of  our  instinctive  desires  assumes  the  direction  of  our 
conduct  in  opposition  to  our  reason,  then  reason  is  overpow- 
ered and  enslaved,  and  when  reason  is  overpowered  and 
enslaved,  we  are  ov.ei^)owered  and  enslaved.  On  the 
other  hand,  when  our  reason  maintains  its  rights,  and  pos- 
sesses its  proper  seat  of  sovereignty  within  us;  when  it  con- 
trols our  desires  and  directs  our  actions  so  as  never  to  yield 
to  the  force  of  passion,  then  are  we  masters  of  ourselves, 
and  free  in  the  truest  possible  sense.  A  person  governed 
by  his  appetites  is  most  properly  a  slave.  To  will  (as  St. 
Paul  speaks)  is  present  with  him,  hut  how  to  perform  that  which 
is  good  he  Jgnows  not.    What  he  would  that  he-does  not.   But  ivhat  he 


238  MENTAL  HARMONY 

hates,  that  he  does.  He  delights  in  the  law  of  God  after  the  in- 
ioard  man;  but  he  has  another  law  in  his  members  warring 
against  the  law  of  his  mind,  and  bringing  him  into  captivity  to  the 
law  of  sin.     Rom.  vii.  22  and  23. 

There  is  but  one  just  authority  in  the  mind,  and  that  is 
the  authority  of  conscience.  Whatever  conquers  this,  puts 
us  into  a  state  of  oppression."* 

§.  154.  Objected  that  perfect  harmony  of  the  mind  is  not  reali- 
zed here. 

It  may  be  objected  perhaps,  that,  in  view  of  what  has 
been  said,  there  is  no  mental  freedom  at  all  in  the  present 
state  of  existence;  at  least  that  there  is  not  the  highest  de- 
gree or  perfection  of  mental  freedom;  since  it  is  evident,and 
is  universally  admitted,  that  the  harmony  of  the  human  mind 
is,  in  a  great  degree,  destroyed.  Take  the  most  moral  man 
in  society,  or  even  the  man,  who  together  with  mere  out- 
ward morality  is  the  most  deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of 
the  Gospel,  and  it  is  a  fact  too  obvious,  and  too  much  to  be 
lamented,  that  there  is  a  want  of  harmOny,  that  the  soul 
sometimes  sends  forth  jarring  and  discordant  voices,  and  not 
always  that  sweet  music,  which  breathes  from  minds  in& 
puret  state  of  existence.  His  love  to  God  does  not  always 
possess  that  intensity  and  uniformity,  which  ought  to  be 
chstracteristic  of  it;  his  love  to  his  fellow  creatures,  although 
he  may  be  in  the  main  anxious  for  their  good,  is  subject  to 
variations  discreditable  to  the  fervour  of  l^is' benevolence 
and  offensive  to  God;  his  evil  passions  are  not  always  suita- 
bly rebuked  and  repressed,but  sometimes  reign  for  hours  and 
even  days  &  weeks.  Such  at  his  best  estate  is  man  in  the  pres- 
sent  life.  His  bosom  is  not  the  placid  lake,  but  rather  the 
"torn  ocean's  roar."  There  are  discordant  voices,  and  con- 
testing movements,,  and  ihore  or  less  of  internal  jarring  and 

♦  Price's  Sermons. — See  the  Sermoui  on  Spiritual  or  Inward  Liberty. 


^. 


THE  BASIS  OF  MENTAL  FREEDOM.  239 

uproar  and  confusion,  as  when  the  fountains  of  the  "  great 
deep"  were  broken  up,  and  the  floods  came,  and  the  beauti- 
ful face  of  the  world  was  overwhelmed  with  the  inroads  and 
the  desolations  of  the  waters. 

To  the  truth  of  this  statement  of  man's  condition  we  are 
obliged  to  assent.  It  is  too  obvious  to  admit  of  a  denial. 
And  it  follows  of  course,  that  the  perfection  of  liberty  is 
but  too  seldom  realized  in  the  present  life.  If  we  wish, 
therefore,  to  contemplate  liberty  in  its  perfection,  let  us 
look  at  God.  In  that  glorious  Being  all  is  harmony.  In 
Him,  wisdom,  and  benevolence,  and  justice,  and  voluntary 
power  are  all  blended  in  due  proportions  ;  are  all  active  in 
their  appropriate  spheres  without  any  interference,  forming 
a  constellation  and  inseparable  cluster  of  light  without  any 
shades  crossing  their  path,  or  any  darkness  at  all.  And  in 
Him,  more  than  in  any  other  Being,  there  is  perfect  liberty. 
And  let  us  look  moreover  at  angels  and  seraphims,  aud  all  the 
spotless  companies  and  princely  hosts  that  bow  in  his  pres- 
ence and  cast  their  crowns  at  his  feet,  and  it  is  the  same. 
Their  souls,  although  infinitely  removed  from  Him  in  point 
of  capacity,  are  yet,  in  their  moral  nature  and  in  their  more 
limited  sphere,  the  perfect  mirror  and  reflex  of  His.  And 
with  them  also,  in  that  sphere,  whatever  it  may  be,  which 
God  has  been  pleased  to  assign  them,  there  is  undoubtedly 
the  brightness  and  the  perfection  of  liberty,    c  \  -. 

<§.  155.  Perfection  of  mental  harmony  and  consequent  mental 
liberty  illustrated  from  the  character  of  the  'Savior, 

But  is  there  not  perfect  liberty  of  the  mind  on  earth  ? 
Adam  before  he  fell  enjoyed  this  perfection  of  freedom.  In 
the  second  Adam  too,  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  who  was  temp- 
ted in  all  points  as  we  are  and  yet  without  sin,  it  existed  in 
the  highest  possible  degree,     Follow  him  in  the  vicissitudes 


240  MENTAL  HARMONY 

of  his  life;  mark  him  in  the  various  situations  of  temptation, 
trial,  siiffering.  See  him  the  son  of  a  carpenter,  and  himself 
employed  in  the  calling  of  his  fathers  ;  see  him  at  a  little 
later  period  with  his  whip  of  thongs  expelling  with  righteous 
indignation  the  money  changers  from  the  Temple;  see  him 
in  the  synagogue  and  the  wilderness,  in  preaching  and  in 
prayer,  smitten  with  the  mid-day  sun,  and  chilled  with  the 
drops  of  the  night  ;  behold  him  with  the  sorrowful  and  the 
rejoicing,  at  the  marriage  feast  of  Cana,  and  at  the  tomb  of 
Lazarus  ;  behold  him  mingling  with  all  classes,  and  anxious 
for  the  good  of  all,  seeking  to  benefit  alike  the  high  and  the 
low,  the  priest  in  his  robes,  and  the  publican  sitting  at  the 
receipt  of  customs,  the  young  man  of  great  possessions,  as 
well  as  such  as  were  halt  and  blind;  behold  him  praying  and 
agonizing  in  Gethsemane,  and  agonizing,  and  supplicating, 
and  dying  on  the  Cross.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  of  any 
one,  who  was  placed  in  a  greater  diversity  of  situations,  and 
exposed  to  a  greater  mixture  and  contrariety  of  influences. 
But  in  that  mind  there  was  entire  and  perfect  harmony. 
The  appetites,  the  propensities,  the  affections,  (for  he  had 
them  all,  and  not  only  that,  he  was  tried  or  tempted  hi  them 
all,)  never  violated  their  due  boundaries  ;  but  always  acted 
in  complete  conformity  with  the  law  of  rectitude  implanted 
in  the  soul.  As  there  was  perfect  harmony,  there  was  per- 
fect liberty;  and  as  there  was  liberty  there  was  peace;  even 
that  peace  which  passeth  understanding. 

As  Christ  is  set  before  us  as  an  example,  that  we  should 
follow  him,  we  are  certainly  not  tb  consider  it  as  an  impossi- 
bility for  us  to  realize  in  our  own  souls  the  same  complete- 
ness of  mental  harmony  and  the  same  perfection  of  inward 
liberty.  It  is  the  duty  of  all  to  strive  to  free  themselves 
from  the  bondage  under  which  they  labour,  and  to  secure, 
with  the  blessing  of  God,  a  restoration  to  that  state  from 
which  they  have  fallen.    And  who  will  undertake   to  say. 


THE   BASIS    OF    MENTAL    FREEDOM.  241 

that  there  may  not  be  a  restoration  to  that  state  of  inward 
harmony,  purity,  and  peace  in  the  present  life  ;  if  not  through 
the  whole  course  of  a  life  or  even  a  year,  yet  in  some  fa- 
vored moments,  when  the  earnest  strivings  of  the  creature 
are  blessed  by  the  presence  and  the  aids  of  the  Creator  ? 
"  Where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is  liberty"  ;  not 
merely  liberty  in  heaven  but  liberty  on  earth  ;  not  merely 
an  exemption  from  ceremonial  thraldom,  but  from  the  great- 
er load  of  spiritual  thraldom  ;  and  we  may  add,  as  we  are 
not  authorized  to  limit  the  operations  of  that  Spirit  of  the 
Lord,  so  we  are  not  authorized  or  permitted  to  deny  the  pos- 
sibility, however  seldom  it  may  be  the  case  in  fact,  of  the 
completeness  or  perfection  of  liberty.  If  we  are  not  wholly 
lovers  of  God,  it  is  because  we  are  still  the  lovers  of  some 
iniquity  ;  and  if  we  are  not  wholly  free,  it  is  because  we 
choose  not  to  be  so. 

§.  156.   Objected  that  the  foregoing  views  are  necessarily  and 
in  their  very  terms  inconsistent  with  liberty. 

But  it  may  perhaps  be  objected,  that  the  subordination 
of  the  various  parts  of  the  mind  to  the  authority  of  con- 
science, wMch,  inasmuch  as  it  constitutes  the  true  harmony 
of  the  mind,  is  the  occasion  and  basis  of  the  actual  realiza- 
tion of  perfect  liberty,  is  even  in  its  very  terms  a  statement 
of  restraint  and  enthralment.  But  can  we  with  propriety, 
when  we  carefully  examine  the  subject,  concede  anj^  weight 
to  such  an  objection  ?  Every  thing,  which  exists,  must  have 
its  appropriate  nature,  and  consequently  its  prescribed  sphere 
of  action.  Subordination,  if  there  be  indeed  a  Supreme 
Power  to  whom  every  thing  else  is  amenable,  must  necessa- 
rily be  the  very  condition  of  existence.  It  is  a  very  errone- 
ous notion,  which  supposes,  that  mental  liberty  necessarily 
implies  insubordination  ;'as  much  so  as  to  suppose  that  there 

can   be    no   civil  freedom   without  popular  licentiousness. 
SI 


342  MENTAL  HARMONY. 

Without  subordination,  secured  by  some  ascendant  and  per- 
manent principle,  each  inferiour  principle  and  power  of  hu- 
man nature  would  leave  its  appropriate  sphere,  and  com- 
mence an  invasion  on  that  of  its  neighbour.  Such  a  state 
of  things  would  necessarily  be  an  infringement  upon  and  a 
destruction  of  all  liberty. 

We  hold  it  to  be  self-evident,  that  no  being,  attribute,  or 
faculty  can  be  considered  as  free  in  the  highest  sense  of  that 
term,  whenever  there  is  a  violation  of  the  elements  of  its 
nature  ;  or  what  is  the  same  thing,  when  there  is  an  inter- 
ruption or  hindrance  from  another  source  of  the  tendencies  of 
those  elements.  Now  the  mind,  though  it  is  one  and  indivi- 
sible in  its  nature,  is  exceedingly  multiplied  and  complex 
in  its  modes  of  operation.  And  each  of  these  modes  of  opera- 
tion, (we  speak  not  now  of  particular  acts  of  ^^he  mind  but 
of  CLASSES  of  acts,)  has  its  definite  limits  an(l  its  specific  and 
unalienable  character,  in  other  words  a  nature  of  its  own  ; 
so  much  so  that  there  is  an  entire  propriety  in  speaking  of 
the  distinct  faculties  of  the  mind.  But  if  these  faculties  or 
powers  have  a  nature  of  their  own,  they  can  be  free  and  free 
only,  at  least  in  the  highest  and  most  ennobling  sense  of  that 
term,  when  they  are  permitted  to  act  in  accordanbe  with  that 
nature.  Now  as  every  faculty  of  the  mind  exists  and  ope- 
rates in  connection  with  other  faculties,  there  must  be  in  the 
mind  some  ascendant  and  authorized  power,  which  can  in- 
dicate to  each  its  appropriate  limits  or  sphere.  And  as  these 
spheres  of  action  are  adapted  to  each  other  with  perfect 
symmetry,  there  cannot  be  a  transgression  or  passing  over  of 
one  sphere,  without  an  invasion  of  another  ;  there  cannot 
be  an  excess  of  liberty  in  one,  without  a  diminution  of  lib- 
erty in  another.  Hence  we  see,  that,  from  the  nature  of 
the  case,  a  due  subordination  in  the  powers  of  the  mind  is 
not  inconsistent  with  the  liberty  of  each  power  in  itself,  and 
is  absolutely  essential  to  the  liberty  of  every  other  power. 
And  this  view  seems  to  us  fully  to  answer  the  objection  above 
referred  to. 


CHAPTER  THIRD 


FREEDOM  OF  THE  WILL. 


§.  157.  Remarks  on  the  nature  of  the  freedom  of  the  will. 

The  remarks,  which  have  been  made  in  the  two  preceding 
chapters,  are  to  some  extent  of  a  general  nature,  being  ap- 
plicable to  the  mind  as  a  whole,  as  well  as  in  its  parts  ;  and 
susceptible  of  an  application  not  only  to  the  human  mind, 
but  to  all  minds.  The  whole  subject  of  the  nature  of  free- 
dom is  one  of  great  importance,  and  it  is  also  one  of  no  in- 
considerable difl&culty  ;  and  it  seemed,  therefore,  to  require, 
those  general  illustrations.  We  hope  from  what  has  been 
said  on  the  nature  of  freedom  in  general,  that  it  will  be  ea- 
sy to  understand  what  is  meant  by  the  freedom  of  the  will. 
We  do  not  suppose,  (and  we  have  already  suggested  reasons 
for  the  remark,)  that  the  freedom  of  the  will,  when  contem- 
plated directly  and  in  itself,  either  is,  or  ever  will  be,  a  mat- 
ter of  verbal  explanation  ;  no  mere  form  of  words  can  of  it- 
self fully  explain  what  freedom  is,  either  when  predicated  of 
the  will,  or  of  any  other  form  or  action  of  the  mind.  But 
still  we  trust,  that,  with  the  help  of  the  general  statements 
which  have  been  made,  it  will  be  found  a  matter  of  clear  in- 


244  FREEDOM  OF    THE    WILL. 

tellectual  perception  ;  and  that  if  it  should  elude  and  baffle 
the  powers  of  language  to  express  it,  it  will  still  be  found 
fully  within  the  comprehension  of  thought. 

It  does  not  follow,  because  the  element  of  freedom  is,  in 
some  respects,  of  too  subtile  a  nature  to  be  embodied  in  the 
massive  forms  of  speech,  that  it  is  therefore  too  subtile  and 
etherial  to  be  approached  and  apprehended  by  the  mind. 
There  are  many  things,  which  are  known  and  are  under- 
stood, at  least  enough  so  for  all  practical  purposes,  but 
which  cannot  be  explained  by  any  statements  in  language, 
so  as  to  make  them  clearer.  It  may  be  impossible  for  me 
to  explain  by  a  mere  form  of  words  what  is  meant  by  my 
egsistence  ;  but  I  fully  know,  as  every  body  else  does  in  res- 
pect to  himself,  what  my  existence  is  in  experience  and  in 
fact.  In  like  manner  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  explain  what 
the  freedom  of  the  will  is  in  words,  but  I  know  what  it  is 
in  experience  and  in  fact  ;  and  have  never  been  destitute  of 
that  knowledge  ;  and  it  is  impossible  that  I  should  be  desti- 
tute of  it.  If  the  will  were  some  material  object,  I  could 
probably  explain  by  words  what  is  meant  by  its  freedom; 
but  as  it  is  immaterial  and  mental,  we  are  obliged  to  leave 
it  to  each  one's  internal  examination  and  consciousness. 

§.  1 58.   Of  the  relation  of  the  freedom  of  the  will  to  the  fact  of 
its  subjection  to  law. 

But  the  inquiry  may  arise  in  the  minds  of  some,  how  can 
it  be  possible  that  the  will  should  be  free,  and  at  the  same 
time  subject  to  law  ?  No  doubt  some  persons  fully  enter- 
tain the  idea,  that  the  doctrine  of  the  will's  subjection  to 
law,  which  is  clearly  susceptible  of  accumulated  and  irresisti- 
ble proof,  necessarily  involves,  that  the  voluntary  faculty  is 
destitute  of  liberty.  But  if  we  rightly  understand  the  mat- 
ter, the  fact  is  entirely  the  reverse  of  what  is  here  supposed 
1,0  be  the  case.     The  opinion,  which  for  various  reasons  we 


FREEDOM    OF    THE    WILL.  245 

deliberately  and  fully  embrace,  is,  that,  without  laws'of  the 
mind,  there  is  no  liberty  of  the  mind;  neither  liberty  in  fact, 
nor  even  a  possibility  of  it.  Law  and  liberty  necessarily 
go  together.  In  the  order  of  their  existence  law  precedes 
liberty;  and  it  is  in  that  order  they  are  most  naturally  con- 
templated. Where  there  is  perfect  liberty,  as  we  have  al- 
ready had  occasion  to  notice,  there  is  perfect  harmony;  but 
there  cannot  be  perfect  harmony,  nor  harmony  in  any  de- 
gree, without  law.  But  the  Creator  has  wisely  and  kindly 
taken  this  matter  into  his  own  hands.  He  has  stamped  upon 
the  mind  in  letters  of  light,  so  that  he  who  runs  may  read 
them,  that  the  whole  economy  of  the  mind  is  subject  to  the 
oversight  and  regulation  of  fixed  principles  or  laws.  And 
in  doing  this,  he  has  at  the  same  moment,  and  by  one  single 
act,  laid  the  broad  and  deep  foundations  of  control  and  of 
subordination,  of  harmony  and  of  freedom. 

But  we  may  go  further  than  this,  and  come  more  closely 
to  the  matter,  which  is  directly  before  us.  We  may  safely 
take  the  position,  that  the  will  could  not  enjoy  freedom, 
either  in  a  higher  or  less  degree,  if  it  were  not  in  itself,  and 
considered  separately  from  all  other  powers,  subject  to  law. 
If  the  acts  of  the  will  were  guided  by  no  principles  whatev- 
er, if  they  were  beyond  the  reach  of  all  su  perintendance  and 
regulative  control,  they  would  necessarily  be  thrown  into 
the  arms  of  a  blind  and  inflexible  destiny. 

If  it  could  be  shown,  that  the  will  is  not  subject  to  law, 
it  would  of  course  follow,  that  it  is  the  subject  of  mere  con- 
tingency and  accident,  which  entirely  and  fully  comes  up  to 
the  utmost  idea  of  fatality.  And  it  would  be  found  to  be  a 
fatalism  of  the  worst  kind,  an  unintelligent  fatalism.  — But 
having  proved,  that  the  will,  as  well  as  the  other  mental 
powers,  has  its  laws,  we  secure  in  that  single  fact  the  pos- 
sibility of  liberty,  which  we  could  not  have  without  it. 
We  are  accordingly  in  a  situation,  in  which  the   liberty  of 


246  FREEDOM   OF   THE   WILL. 

the  will,  that  important  and  noble  attribute  of  a  morally  ac- 
countable nature,  is  not  necessarily  excluded  ;  which  would 
certainly  be  the  case,  if  the  will  were  driven  about  hither 
and  thither,  without  any  possible  foresight  of  what  is  liable 
to  take  place,|and  without  any  regularity  of  action. 

§.  159.   Circumstances  or  occasions  under  which  freedom  of  the 
will  exists. 

Although,  in  entering  into  the  subject  of  the  freedom  of 
the  will  in  particular,  in  distinction  from  the  general  nature 
of  freedom,  we  do  not  profess  to  go  into  verbal  explanations 
and  dej5nitions,  something  may  nevertheless  be  said  in  rela- 
tion to  the  occasions  or  circumstances,  under  which  it  exists. 
— In  respect  to  the  occasions,  on  which  the  freedom  of  the 
will  exists,  but  little  more  remains  to  be  done  than  apply 
the  remarks  made  on  the  general  subject  of  freedom  in  the 
preceding  chapter.  If  there  is  perfect  harmony  in  other 
parts  of  the  mind,  there  will  be  perfect  freedom  in  the  will; 
if  every 'appetite  and  propensity  and  passion  is  precisely 
what  it  should  be,  the  voluntary  power  cannot  possibly  ex- 
perience any  pressure,  which  will  interrupt  or  diminish  that 
degree  of  liberty,  which  is  essential  to  or  compatible  with 
its  nature. 

This  topic  may  perhaps  be  susceptible  of  illustration  by 
a  reference  to  the  Supreme  Being.  If  freedom  can,  with 
propriety  and  justice,  be  predicated  of  any  being  whatever, 
it  is  certainly  predicable  of  the  Supreme  Being;  and  predi- 
cate not  only  in  general  terms,  but  of  the  will  in  particular. 
We  hazard  nothing  in  saying,  that  liberty  of  the  will  is  pos- 
sessed by  Him  in  the  highest  possible  degree,  *  And  we 
cannot  conceive  how  it  should  be  otherwise,  when  we  con- 
sider that  the  elements,  both  moral  and  intellectual,  by  which 
it  is  surrounded,  are  in  perfect  harmony  with  each  other. — 
And  if  we  turn  our  attention  to  any  other  high  and  holy  be- 


FEEEDOM   OF   THE   WILL.  247 

ings,  such  as  are  nearest  in  glory  to  the  Supreme  Author  of 
all  things,  it  i^  the  same.  The  will  of  angels  and  of  arch- 
angels and  of  all  other  orders  of  holy  beings,  that  encircle 
with  their  songs  of  praise  the  Divine  Throne,  possesses, 
within  the  appropriate  sphere  of  its  action,  the  highest  de- 
gree of  freedom.  All  the  various  elements,  which  go  to 
constitute  them  intelligent  and  moral  beings,  are  restricted 
to  their  proper  place,  and  operate  in  their  due  proportion. 
Their  perceptions,  so  far  as  they  go,  are  in  perfect  accor- 
dance with  the  truth  of  things.  Their  emotions  are  suck  as 
God,  who  takes  supreme  delight  in  perfect  rectitude,  can* 
entirely  approve.  Every  desire,  which  they  exercise  is  in 
its  right  place;  their  love  to  God  is  just  such  as  it  should 
be;  their  love  to  other  holy  beings  corresponds  precisely  to 
the  nature  of  the  object  towards  which  it  is  directed;  their 
aversion  to  sin  and  sinful  beings  is  just  such,  and  fully  and 
entirely  such,  as  is  appropriate  and  right ;  and  it  is  precisely 
the  same  in  respect  to  every  other  emotion  and  desire. 
And  the  consequence  is,  there  is  no  disturbing  force  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  will;  there  is  no  possible  motive  to 
sway  it  frotn  the  line  of  perfect  rectitude;  and  hence  it  is 
true,  that  their  will,  although  it  always  operates  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  highest  rectitude  and  good,  is  always  at  liberty; 
and  this  liberty  exists  too  in  the  highest  possible  degree. 
And  hence  we  assert,  in  respect  to  all  minds,  whether  they 
are  higher  or  lower  in  the  scale  of  being,  that  perfect  harmo- 
ny is  the  appropriate  element  of  perfect  freedom  ;  and  that 
every  diminution'of  harmony  will  be  attended  with  a  corres- 
ponding dimirNition  of  liberty.  And  this  is  as'true  of  the 
separate  parts  or  powers  of  the  mind  as  of  the  whole;  and  is 
as  true  of  the  will  as  of  any  other  part. 

§.  160.  Evidence  of  the  freedom  of  the  will  from  consciousness. 

Having  made  the  foregoing  remarks  in  explanation  of  the 


248  FREEDOM    OF    THE  WILL. 

•nature  of  the  freedom  of  the  will,  and  of  the  occasions  on 
which  it  exists,  we  are  now  prepared  to  proceed  to  a  consid- 
eration of  the  proofs  in  support  of  the  position,  that  there  is 
such  a  freedom.  And  we  accordingly  remark,  that  ^  the 
doctrine  of  th5  freedom  of  the  will  is  sustained,  in  the  first 
place,  by  consciousness. — When  we  assert  that  men  have  a 
knowledge  of  the  freedom  of  the  will  by  consciousness,  we 
mean  merely  to  declare,  that  such  knowledge  is  the  result  of 
an  inward  conviction,  an  internal  experience.  In  other 
words  every  man  knows  himself,  in  the  exercise  of  volition, 
'to  be  free.  It  is*  a  knowledge  which  we  possess,  not  by 
deduction,  but  by  a  species  of  intuitive  conviction  ;  not  by 
inference,  but  by  an  original  perception. 

We  do  not  propose  to  occupy  time  in  expanding  this 
view ;  since  it  is  a  matter,  which  every  one  understands, 
and  in  respect  to  which  it  is  presumed  there  is  hardly  a  pos- 
sibility of  mistake  or  of  controversy.  And  the  argument  is 
as  decisive,  as  it  is  plain  and  simple.  Some  writers,  indeed, 
have  even-been  disposed  to  rely  upon  this  argument  alone. 
They  consider  it,  (and  perhaps  it  maybe  admitted,  with  en- 
tire justice  and  correctness,)  as  conclusive  against  any  con- 
siderations, which  may  be  adduced  adverse  to  it.  "  Our 
own  free-will,  says  Mr.  Stewart,  we  know  by  conscious- 
ness; and  we  can  have  no  evidence  of  any  truth  so  irresis- 
tible as  this." 

§.   161.   Of  an  objection  to  the  argument  from  consciousness. 

It  ought  to  be  noticed,  however,  that  ffom  time  to  time 
a  few  individuals  have  been  found,  who  ha^  asserted  the 
opposite,  viz,  a  consciousness  of  internal  compulsion  or  sla- 
very. Surprising  as  such  a  declaration  is,  we  are  bound  in 
candour  to  receive  it  as  truly  indicating  the  internal  experi- 
ence of  those  who  make  it,  although  it  may  be  in  opposition 
to  the  testimony  of  thousands   and  even  hundreds  of  thou- 


FREEDOM   OF   THE   WILL.  24^ 

sands  to  one.  Bat  these  exceptions  do  not  at  all  overthrow 
our  argument.  If  there  truly  be  such  exceptions,  they  can 
undoubtedly  be  explained  in  entire  consistency  with  the 
general  truth,  that  the  freedom  of  the  will  is  ascertained  and 
proved  by  the  consciousness  of  mankind.  Is  it  not  true, 
is  it  not  accordant  with  common  experience  and  with  the 
Scriptures. even,  that  any  man  and  every  man  may  enslave 
himself  ?  And  when  that  is  the  case,  what  could  we  expect 
but  that  consciousness,  the  true  index  of  what  takes  place 
within,  should  bear  its  testimony  to  a  state  of  thraldom  ? 
If  {hen  these  persons  are  not  conscious  of  freedom  of  the 
will,  may  we  not  safely  say,  it  is  not  the  work  of  their  Cre- 
ator, but  their  own  ?  Certain  it  is^  if  we  permit  any  one 
of  the  appetites,  propensities,  or  passions  continually  to  ex- 
tend and  strengthen  itself  by  being  continually  repeated,  it 
will  eventually  gain  the  ascendency  over  and  subdue  all  the 
rest  of  the  mind.  If  for  instance  a  nmn  indulges,  year  af- 
ter year,  the  consuming  propensity  of  ambition,  it  ultimate- 
ly so  disorders  the  proper  action  of  the  mental  powers,  and 
acquires  such  immense  strength,  that  he  feels  himself  driven 
by  a  sort  of  compulsion;  he  undoubtedly  recognizes  in  him- 
self, as  he  asserts  to  be  the  case,  the  impulse  of  a  species  of 
destiny,  which  however  is  of  his  own  creation.  By  his  own 
criminal  improvidence  and  not  by  any  inward  and  irresisti- 
ble fatality,  he  has  lost  control  of  the  helm,  and  is  driven 
forward  amid  billows  and  tempests  to  his  destruction. 

Such  cases  undoubtedly  exist,  but  they  cannot  with  pro- 
priety be  regarded  in  any  other  light  than  that  of  exceptions 
to  the  general  rule,  and  which  are  susceptible  of  an  expla- 
nation in  consistency  with  the  general  experience  of  man- 
kind. That  experience,  (the  inward  testimony  or  conscious- 
ness, which  the  great  maiss  of  mankind  has,)  most  decidedly 

testifies  to  the  liberty  of  the  will. 
SZ 


250  FREEDOM  OF    THE    WILL. 

§.    162.   Evidence  of  the  wilVs  freedom  from  the  nature  of 
motives. 

The  nature  of  motives,  among  other  things,  appears  to 
furnish  an  argument  on  the  matter  before  us.  It  appeared 
in  the  Chapter  on  that  subject,  that  motives  are  coexistent 
with  volitions  ;  that  the  will  acts  in  view  of  motives  and 
never  acts  independently  of  them  ;  that,  although  its  acts 
are  its  oion  and  are  to  be  regarded  and  spoken  of  as  its  own, 
yet  motives  furnish  the  condition  or  occasion,  (and  we  may 
add  the  indispensable  occasion,)  on  which  its  ability  to  put 
forth  those  acts  is  exerted.  Here  is  at  least  one  great  law,  to 
which  the  will  is  subject ;  and  it  is  one,  which  comes  direct- 
ly and  constantly  under  our  observation.  But  it  is  worthy 
of  notice,  that  we  are  obliged  to  rest  satisfied  with  this  law, 
as  it  comes  to  us  in  its  general  form  and  as  it  is  stated  in  gen- 
eral terms,  without  the  ability  of  going  within  the  circle  it 
draws  around  the  will  and  seeing  it  carried  into  effect  in 
particulars.  Whether  the  influence  of  law  draws  itself  more 
closely  around  the  will  or  not,  than  is  implied  in  the  gener- 
al proposition  of  the  will's  action  being  restricted  to  the  oc- 
casions furnished  by  motives  ;  and  if  it  does,  in  what  way 
this  more  intimate  influence  is  carried  into  effect,  is  a  mat- 
ter in  both  respects,  which  we  venture  to  assert  the  mind  of 
man  has  never  yet  penetrated,  and  probably  never  will  pen- 
etrate. 

But,  to  come  to  the  point  which  we  had  particularly  in 
view,  although  motives  are  the  condition  or  preparative  or 
occasion  of  the  will's  action,  yet  when  we  consider  that  the 
motives  placed  before  the  will  are  oftentimes  essentially  dif- 
ferent from  each  other,  being  various  in  kind  as  well  as  de- 
gree, so  much  so  as  not  to  admit  of  a  direct  comparison,  we 
are  able  distinctly  to  conceive,  how  the  will  may  act  in  con- 


FREEDOM   OF   THE   WILL.  251 

nection  with  motives  and  yet  have  a  true  and  substantive 
power  in  itself;  how  it  may  be  subject  to  law  apd  yet  be 
free.  In  other  words,  although  motives  are  placed  round 
about  it,  and  enclose  it  on  every  side,  it  has  the  power  of 
choosing,  (or  if  other  expressions  be  preferable,)  of  deci- 
ding, determining,  or  arbitrating  among  them.  Although  it 
is  shut  up  within  barriers,  which  God  himself  has  instituted, 
it  has  a  positive  liberty  and  ability  within  those  barriers. 
Although  its  operations  are  confined  within  a  sphere  of 
action,  which  is  cleariy  and  permanently  marked  out  by  its 
maker,  yet  within  that  sphere,  (the  proposition  of  the  will's 
subjection  to  law  still  holding  good,)  its  acts  emanate  in 
itself.  Although  in  some  important  sense  the  will  is  the 
creature  of  God,  and  is  dependent  upon  God,  and  all  its  acts 
are  God's  acts  ;  yet  at  the  same  time,  taking  the  facts  just  as 
they  are  presented  and  stand  before  us,  it  has  a  vitality  of 
its  own,  a  theatre  of  movement  appropriate  to  itself,  and  all 
its  acts  are  its  own  acts.  This  is  the  position  undoubtedly, 
in  which  God  has  seen  fit  to  place  the  subject  before  the  hu- 
man mind,  as  if  he  would  instruct  us  at  the  same  moment, 
both  in  our  weakness  and  strength,  our  power  and  depen- 
dence. 

But  when  we  have  stated  this,  we  have  stated  all  ;  we 
have  arrived  at  an  unfathomable  mystery,  which,  as  we  have, 
already  said,  the  limited  mind  of  man  will  probably  never 
penetrate.  The  facts  are  demonstrable,  but  the  manner  of 
them  exceeds  our  comprehension.  We  see  the  evidencies 
of  law,  and  we  know  beyond  all  doubt  and  question  that 
laws  of  the  will  exist ;  but  at  the  same  time,  if  the  distinc- 
tion of  motives  into  personal  and  moral  be  correct,  we  are 
not  able  to  bind  the  ligatures  of  law  so  closely  around  the 
domains  of  the  will,  as  to  shut  out  the  possibility  either  of 
its  power  or  its  freedom.  That  is  to  say,  while  the  human 
mind  can  establish  and  prove  to  demonstration  the  proposi- 


252  FREEDOM   OF   THE   WILL. 

tion,  that  the  will  is  subject  to  law,  it  is  obliged  to  rest  in 
the  general  proposition  that  such  is  the  fact;  it  can  go  no 
further  ;  it  cannot,  by  any  exercise  of  fair  reasoning,  so  ap- 
ply the  principle  to  the  will  as  not  to  leave  an  ample  sphere 
both  for  its  liberty  and  its  power.  We  are  permitted,  for 
wise  purposes,  to  see,  that  God  is  our  sovereign  and  our  mas- 
ter, to  see  that  not  only  the  hairs  of  our  head  are  numbered, 
but  that  even  our  inmost  purposes  are  under  his  control,  and 
to  see  it  clearly,  distinctly,  and  undeniably;  but  in  such  a 
way  as  to  leave  it  both  possible  and  demonstrable,  that  we 
possess  in  ourselves  the  elements,  (and  to  an  extent  invol- 
ving the  most  solemn  responsibility,)  of  power,  of  freedom, 
and  of  moral  accountableness. 

§.  163.    Objected  that  the  will  is  necessarily  governed  by  the 
strongest  motive. 

But  it  will  perhaps  be  said  by  way  of  objection,  that  the 
will  is  necessarily  governed  by  the  strongest  motive,  or  at 
least  that  it  necessarily  acts  in  view  of  the  strongest  mo- 
tive, of  whatever  kind  it  may  be.  We  are  aware,  that  this 
has  often  been  alledged;  and  not  unfrequently  by  men, whose 
suggestions  are  entitled  to  the  most  respectful  considera- 
tion. But  the  proposition,  in  ordefl:  to  have  any  weight  as 
an  argument,  must  be  shown  to  be  of  universal  application. 
If  there  were  only  one  kind  or  class  Of  motives,  there  would 
undoubtedly  be  some  plausibility  in  the  vi'ew  proposed. 
Perhaps  it  would  be  a  conclusive  one. 

Motives  of  the  same  kind  can  be  directly  compared  to- 
gether; and  as  our  consciousness  assures  us  of  a  difference 
in  the  strength  of  such  motives  even  in  themselves  consider- 
ed, there  is  a  propriety  in  speaking  of  them  as  more  or  less 
strong.  But,  as  we  have  already  had  occasion  to  remark  in 
speaking  on  this  very  subject,  motives,  which  differ  in  kind, 
can  be  compared  not  in  themselves^  hut  only  in  their  e^ed< . 


FEEEDOM    OF   THE  WILL.  253 

In  respect  to  all  such,  therefore,  the  proposition,  that  the 
will  is  governed  by  the  strongest  motive,  is  an  identical  one. 
That  is  to  say,  the  proposition  can  mean  nothing  more  than 
simply,  that  the  will  is  governed  by  the  motive,  by  which  it 
is  governed.  If  we  were  to  admit  this,  we  should  admit  only 
an  obvious  truism,  which  could  have  no  weight,  either  one 
way  or  the  other,  in  resolving  the  matter  under  consideration. 
—(See  the  remarks  on  this  subject  in  Chapter  ninth  of  Part 
Second.) 


CHAPTER  FOURTH. 


FREEDOM  OF  THE  WILL  IMPLIED  IN  MAN'S 
MORAL  NATURE. 


§.  164.  Remarks  on  the  nature  or  mode  of  the  argument. 

There  are  various  other  considerations,  connected  with 
the  general  subject  of  the  freedom  of  the  will,  all  of  which 
have  weight,  although  they  may  not  be  closely  connected 
with  each  other.  Hence  the  argument  on  the  subject  of  the 
freedom  of  the  will,  as  well  as  on  that  of  its  subjection  to 
laws,  has  a  sort  of  miscellaneous  appearance,  which  may  be 
less  pleasing,  than  it  would  otherwise  be,  to  those,  who 
have  been  accustomed  to  the  invariable  consecution  of  parts, 
and  the  strictness  of  mathematical  demonstration.  But  it 
will  be  perceived,  that  the  nature  of  the  subject  renders  this 
in  some  degree  unavoidable  ;  and  it  is  to  be  hoped,  that 
suitable  allowance  will  be  made  for  it.  If  the  question  be- 
fore us  were,  whether  the  Romans  occupied  the  island  of 
Great  Britain  at  some  period  previous  to  the  Saxon  conquest, 
we  probably  should  not  rest  the  conclusion  on  one  circum- 
stance or  fact  alone  ;  but  employ  all,  which  might  have  a 
bearing  on  the  inquiry,  however  diverse  they  might  be  from 
each  other  in  themselves.    We  should  refer  to  the  testimony 


FREEDOM    OF    THE    WILL.  255 

of  the  Roman  historians,  to  the  remaips  of  encampments  and 
roads  indicating  a  Roman  origin,  to  the  coins  and  urns 
which  have  been  discovered  ;  and  although  each  of  these 
circumstances  would  be  different  from  and  independent  of 
the  others,  they  would  all  obviously  bear  upon  the  same 
conclusion  ;  and  even  if  they  were  separately  weak  and 
somewhat  unsatisfactory,  might  yet  in  their  combination 
furnish  an  argument  of  irresistible  strength.  It  is  so  with  the 
subject  now  before  us,  as  also  and  particularly  so  with  that, 
which  occupied  our  attention  in  the  Second  Part  of  this  work. 
— We  shall,  therefore,  go  on  to  mention  one  view  of  the 
subject  after  another,  in  the  expectation,  that  each  distinct 
part  of  the  argument  will  be  kept  in  mind  ;  and  that  the 
influence  of  each  will  be  so  united  with  that  of  others  as  to 
render  the  conclusion  not  only  satisfactory  but  unanswerable. 

§.  165.   Of  the  elements  of  man'' s  moral  nature. 

Although  the  argument,  taken  as  a  whole,  is  emphatical- 
ly a  miscellaneous  one,  yet  the  remarks  of  this  chapter  will 
be  found  to  be  connected  together,  in  this  respect  at  least, 
that  they  all  have  a  relation  to  one  topic,  viz,  man's  moral 
nature.  That  man  has  a  moral  nature  we  cannot  for  a  mo- 
ment suppose  to  be  a  matter  of  doubt.  Without  such  a 
nature  he  could  not  be  the  subject  of  a  moral  government ; 
and,  although  he  might  possess  all  knowledge,  he  would  ne- 
cessarily be  without  virtue  and  vice  ;  and  neither  praise 
nor  blame,  neither  rewards  nor  punishment  could  ever  attach 
to  his  conduct. 

There  is  nothing  inconceivable  or  inconsistent  in  the 
suppposition  of  a  being  so  constituted  as  to  be  possessed  of 
intellect,  propensities,  passions,  and  will,  and  yet  to  be  inca- 
pable by  his  very  constitution  of  framing  those  notions  and 
of  exercising  those  feelings,  which  are  implied  in  a  moral 
nature.    But  such  is  not  the  constitution  of  man.     While  he 


256         FREEDOM    OF    THE    WILL    IMPLIED 

is  endowed  with  intellect  and  appetites  and  propensities  and 
passions  and  will,  God  has  seen  fit  to  elevate  and  ennoble 
him,  by  constituting  him  a  moral  and  religious  being.  The 
elements  of  his  moral  nature,  (in  accordance  with  that  stri- 
king wisdom  ever  manifested  in  God's  works,  which  accom- 
plishes great  results  by  simple  means,)  are  few  in  number, 
and  are  to  be  found  chiefly  in  his  ability  to  frame  the  ab- 
stract notions  of  right  and  wrong,  in  the  feelings  of  moral 
approval  and  disapproval,  in  those  states  of  the  mind  which 
are  known    as   feelings  of    remorse,  and    in   feelings    of 

moral    obligation. All     these    states    of    mind,    which 

taken  together  constitute  man  a  moral,  being,  and  without 
which  he  could  not  sustain  or  possess  that  character,  are 
based  upon  and  imply  the  fact,  as  will  more  fully  appear  in 
the  separate  examination  of  them,  of  the  freedom  of  the  will, 

§.  166.  Evidence  of  ■  freedom  of  the  will  from  feelings  of  ap- 
proval and  disapproval. 

In  stating  the  argument,which  may  be  deduced  on  this  sub- 
ject from  our  moral  nature,  we  proceed  to  remark,  in  the  first 
place,  that  the  freedom  of  the  will  is  implied  in  and  is  shown 
by  the  moral  feelings  of  approval  and  disapproval.  We  are 
so  constituted,  that,  whenever  we  behold  a  person  perform- 
ing a  virtuous  action,  demeaning  himself  with  entire  kind- 
ness, good  faith,  and  justice,  we  at  once  feel  a  sentiment  of 
approval.  On  the  other  hand  if  we  see  a  person  pursuing  a 
diflerent  course,  one  which  is  obviously  characterized  by 
falsehood,  ingratitude,  and  injustice,  we  at  once  feel  an 
emotion  of  disapproval.  But  if  it  should  be  suddenly  dis- 
closed to  us,  that  the  agent,  whom  we  thus  according  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  case  either  approve  or  condemn,  was 
not  in  the  possession  of  freedom  of  will,  it  is  undeniable, 
th  at  all  such  approval  or  disapproval  would  at  once  cease. 
We  should  no  more  think  of  approving  an  action,  however 


OF  THB 

IN    MAN'S   MORAL    NATURE    ((U'lTl^?!!  R  S  I  T  *? 

beneficial  it  might  be,  which  was  known  to  b©s^erfbrmei«^^  '^\'**' 
without  freedom  of  will,  than  of  pronouncing  a  man  worthyL.,^:  -^-^ 
of  moral  approbation  for  a  purely  natural  gift,  such  as  sym- 
metry of  form,  a  musical  voice,  or  striking  outlines  of  the 
countenance.  More  properly,  we  should  think  nothing 
about  it.  To  approve  under  such  circumstances  would,  by  the 
very  constitution  of  our  nature,  be  an  impossibility.  The 
idea  of  liberty,  therefore,  is,  in  this  respect  and  so  far  as 
these  feelings  are  concerned,  fundamental  to  our  moral  na- 
ture. 

§.  167.  Proof  of  freedom  from  feelings  of  remorse. 

There  is  another  class  of  mental  states,  constituting  a 
part  of  man's  moral  nature,  to  which  similar  remarks  will 
apply  ;  we  refer  to  feelings  of  remorse.  These  feelings 
are  entirely  distinct  from  those  of  approval  ajid  disapproval. 
We  are  capable  of  approving  or  disapproving,  when  our  at- 
tention is  directed  solely  to  the  conduct  of  others ;  but  we 
never  feel  remorse  for  what  others  do,  and  it  is  impossible 
that  we  should.  Feelings  of  remorse  have  relation  to  our- 
selves alone.  We  experience  them  when  our  own  conduct,, 
and  not  that  of  others,  is  the  subject  of  moral  disapproval. 
They  are  painful  feelings,  but  the  suffering  is  of  a  peculiar 
kind,  altogether  different  from  mere  sadness  or  grief;  and 
kenc^  .they  may  be  regarded  as  having  a  character  of  their 
own,  and  as  separate  in  their  nature  from  all  other  states  of 
the  mind.  The  existence  of  these  states  of  mind  implies,  on 
the  part  of  the  person  who  is  the  subject  of  them,  a  convic- 
tion of  the  freedom  of  the  will. 

It  can  hardly  be  thought  necessary  to  adduce  facts  and 
arguments  in  support  of  what  has  been  said.  If  a  person 
feels  an  internal  condemnation  or  remorse  for  what  he  has 
done,  it  certainly  must  be  on  the  ground,  that  he  was  at  lib- 


258         FREEDOM   OF   THE   WILL    IMPLIED 

crty  to  will  aud  to  do  otherwise.  It  cannot  be  doubted, 
that  this  position  is  fully  and  universally  admitted. — There 
may  be  fears  and  sorrows  undoubtedly;  there  may  be  re- 
grets and  sufferings,  in  cases  which  are  not  dependent  on 
any  determinations  of  our  own;  but  there  cannot  possibly 
be  REMORSE,  which  implies  a  sense  of  guilt  as  well  as  the 
experience  of  sorrow,  without  a  conviction,  deep  as  the  ba- 
sis of  the  mind  itself,  that  in  doing  the  criminal  action  we 
willed  and  acted  freely,  and  not  by  compulsion.  If  there- 
fore feelings  of  remorse  exist,  as  they  not  unfrequently  do, 
they  furnish  a  strong  proof  in  support  of  the  liberty  of  the 
will. 

§.  168.   Without  the  possession  of  liberty  of  will  man  could 
never  have  framed  the  abstract  notions  of  right  and  wrong. 

Among  other  things  having  a  relation  to  man's  situation 
and  character  as  a  moral  being,  it  is  to  be  noticed  that  he  is 
so  constituted  as  to  be  able  to  form  the  abstract  notions  of 
right  and  wrong,  or  of  virtue  and  vice,  which  are  only  oth- 
er and  synonymous  expressions  for  right  and  wrong.  These 
conceptions,  (which  are  thoughts  and  not  emotions,  the  cre- 
ations of  the  Intellect,  and  not  the  exercises  of  the  Sensibil- 
ities or  heart,)  are  truly  great  and  ennobling;  and  it  may 
perhaps  be  said  of  them,  more  thdfn  of  any  other  part  of  our 
moral  nature,  that  they  are  the  basis  of  moral  reasoning,' 
and  the  foundation  of  moral  anticipation  and  hope.  They 
disclose  to  the  mind,like  light  coming  from  heaven  and  shin- 
ing vividly  into  its  depths,  the  great  fact,  that  there  is  a 
real,  permanent,  and  immutable  distinction  between  good 
and  evil.  Strike  out  and  annihilate  these  primary  concep- 
tions, and  you  at  the  same  moment  obscure  and  destroy  the 
glory  of  man's  mental  nature,  and  blot  out,  at  least  as  far  as 
all  human  perception  is  concerned,  the  brightest  feature  in 
the  character  of  all  other  mental  existences. 


•  IN  MAN'S  MORAL  NATURE.       259 

But  these  leading  ideas,  so  fundamental  to  every  thing  of 
a  moral  and  religious  nature,  could  never  have  been  formed, 
without  a  conviction  of  the  liberty  of  the  will.  The  occa- 
sions undoubtedly,  on  which  they  are  suggested  and  exist 
in  the  mind,  are  instances  of  voluntary  conduct,  either  our 
own  or  that  of  others,  where  we  either  approve  or  disap- 
prove. Without  such  occasions  offered  to  our  notice,  and 
without  such  attendant  emotions  of  moral  approval  or  disap- 
|)roval,  it  may  be  asserted  without  any  hesitation,  that  men 
would  never  have  formed  any  conceptions  in  the  abstract, 
of  right  and  wrong,  of  rectitude  and  the  opposite  ;  and  con- 
sequently could  never  hav'e  beheld,  as  they  now  clearly  do, 
as  if  inscribed  by  the  radiant  finger  of  God,  a  great  line  of 
demarcation,  remaining  always  and  immutably  the  same, 
between  good  and  evil,  between  holiness  and  sin.  But  as 
has  already  been  stated,  it  is  always  implied  in  the  feelings 
of  approval  and  disapproval,  that  the  person,  whose  conduct 
is  either  approved  or  disapproved,  possessed  liberty  of  the 
will.  Without  a  firm  conviction,  that  such  was  the  case, 
the  emotions  could  never  have  existed;  and  consequently 
there  could  never  have  occurred,  in  the  history  of  the  human 
mind,  that  state  of  things,  which  is  the  basis  of  the  origin 
of  the  abstract  notions  of  right  and  wrong,  of  rectitude  and 
want  of  rectitude,  of  virtue  and  vice,  which  are  only  differ- 
ent expressions  for  the  same  thing.  We  have,  therefore,  in 
this  view  of  the  subject  a  new  proof,  that  the  liberty  of  the 
will  is  positively  and  necessarily  involved  in  the  fact  of  our 
possessing  a  moral  nature, 

§ .  169.  Proof  from  feelings  of  moral  obligation . 

There  is  a  distinct  class  of  mental  states,  entitled  in  eve- 
ry point  of  view  to  an  important  place  in  man's  moral  con- 
stitution, which  may  be  termed  Obligatory  feelings,  or  feel- 
ings of  moral  obligation.    Of  these  state$  of  mind  we  do 


260  FREEDOM  OF   THE   WILL    IMPLIED 

not  profess  to  give  a  definition.  As  they  are  elementary 
and  simple,  they  are  necessarily  undefinahle.  But  we  can- 
not doubt,  that  every  one  must  have  more  or  less  frequently 
experienced  them, and  that  every  one  knows  what  their  nature 
is.     And  this  class  of  feelings   also   furnishes  an   argument 

on  the  subject  before  us, We  deem   the   assertion  within 

the  bounds  of  truth  and  of  the  common  opinion  of  mankind, 
when  we  say  that  no  man  ever  does,  or  ever,  can  experience 
in  himself  the  feeling  of  moral  obligation  to  do  a  thing,  so» 
long  as  he  feels  himself  to  be  actually  destitute  of  liberty  to 
do  it.  And  this  is  equally  true,  whether  the  destitution  of 
liberty  relates  to  the  outward  an^  bodily  action  or  to  the 
action  of  the  will.  Does  a  man  feel  himself  morally  ac- 
countable for  the  performance  of  an  action,  to  which  he  is 
driven  by  some  bodily  compulsion?  Or  does  he  feel  himself 
accountable  for  a  failure  to  perform  an  action,  from  the  per- 
formance of  which  he  is  kept  by  actual  bodily  restraint  ? 
And  if  the  mind  is  constrained  and  driven  by  a  compression 
and  violence,  corresponding,  as  far  as  the  different  nature  of 
the  two  things  will  permit,  to  such  compulsion  of  the  body, 
can  there  be  anymore  conviction  of  accountability,  or  of  any 
form  of  moral  obligation  in  the  one  case  than  in  the  other  ? 
But  if  the  existence  of  feelings  of  obligation  be  undeniable, 
and  if  the  existence  of  such  feelings  be  incompatible  with  the 
absence  of  freedom,  and  if  both  these  truths  are  based  on 
the  consciousness  and  confirmed  by  the  umiversal  acknowl- 
edgements of  mankind,  then  it  follows  of  course,  that  men 
do  in  fact  feel  and  recognize,  and  that  they  fully  and  assur- 
edly know  their  freedom. 

§.  170.  Evidence  from  men^s  views  of  crimes  and  punishments. 

Again,  tlie  freedom  of  the  will  is  clearly  implied  in  the 
views,  which  we  find  to  be  generally  adopted  by  men  in  re- 
spect to  crimes   and  punishments.     This  view   of  our   sub- 


IN    MAN'S    MORAl    nature.  ^61 

ject  is  closely  connected  with  that,  which  has  just  been  giv- 
en; and  essentially  the  same  illustrations,  as  were  introdu- 
ced in  the  last  section,  will  apply  here. 

If  a  man  is  laid  under  bodily  constraint,  and  in  that  situ- 
ation is  the  agent  or  rather  instrument  in  the  performance  of 
an  action  involving  great  loss  and  suffering  to  others,  such 
action  is  never  considered  a  crime  and  deserving  of  punish- 
ment, in  whatever  light  it  might  be  regarded  under  other 
circumstances.  This  is  undeniable.*  And  we  always  take 
the  same  view  when  the  mind  is  actually  laid  under  con- 
straint as  when  the  body  is;  with  this  difference  merely, 
that  constraint  of  the  body  is  a  matter  easily  ascertainable, 
while  that  of  the  mind  can  be  learnt  only  with  a  greater  or 
less  degree  of  probability.  The  power  of  the  will  is  a  gift 
or  trust,  as  much  so  5s  the  power  of  perception,  and  is  a 
definite  thing.;  in  some  persons  it  is  greater,  in  others  less; 
but  in  all  cases  it  has  its  limits:  Whenever,  therefore,  there 
is  an  utter  disproportion  between  the  strength  of  the  motive 
and  the  power  of  the  will,  (so  much  so  perhaps  as  to  render 
it  essentially  the  same  as  if  the  will  were  wholly  destitute 
of  power,)  the  will  is  universally  understood  to  be  at  such 
times  under  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  constraint.  And  if 
under  such  circumstances  a  crime  be  charged  upon  a  person, 
we  graduate  the  degree  of  it,  (looking  upon  it  as  higher  in 
some  cases  and  lower  in  others,)  in  precise  conformity  with 
the  degree  of  constraint,  so  far  as  we  can  judge  what  it  is. 
"  There  are  cases,  says  Dr.  Reid,  in  which  a'man's  vol- 
untary actions  are  thought  to  be  very  little,  if  at  all  in  his 
power,  on  account  of  the  viplence  of  the  motive  that  impels 
him.  The  magnanimity  of  a  hero  or  a  martyr  is  not  expec- 
ted in  every  man  and  on  all  occasions. — If  a  man,  trusted 
by  the  government  with  a  secret,  which  it  is  high  treason 
to  disclose,  be  prevailed  upon  by  a  bribe,  we  have  no  mercy 
for  him,  and  hardly  allow  the  greatest  bribe  to  be  any  alle- 


262  rREEDOM    OF    THE    WILL    IMPLIED 

viation  of  his  crime.  But  on  the  other  hand  if  the  secret  be 
extorted  by  the  rack  or  the  dread  of  present  death,  we  pity 
him  more  than  we  blame  him,  ana  would  think  it  severe  and 
unequitable  to  condemn  him  as  a  traitor." And  he  after- 
Wards  gives  the  reason  of  these  different  judgments,  viz, 
that,  while  the  mere  love  of  money  leaves  to  a  man  the  en- 
tire power  over  himself,  the  torment  of  the  rack,  or  the  dread 
of  present  death,  are  so  violent  motives,  that  men,  who  have 
not  uncommon  strength^of  mind,  are  not  masters  of  them- 
selves in  such  a  situation,  and  therefore  what  they  do  is  not 
imputed  to  them  as  a  crime  at  all ,  or  is  thought  less  criminal 
than  it  would  otherwise  be. 

§.   171.  Prevalent  opinions  oj  mankind  on  this  subject. 

The  argument  under  this  general  43ead,  so  far  as  it  has 
now  been  gone*  into,  has  been  stated  in  particulars;  and  it 
is  probably  more  satisfactory,  when  stated  in  this  way,  than 
in  any  other.  But  something  may  be  said  on  the  subject  of 
the  freedom  of  the  will  as  connected  with  our  moral  nature, 
when  it  is  considered,  as  it  were,  in  the  mass.  The  body 
of  mankind  undoubtedly  look  upon  this  subject  in  its  great 
outlines  and  as  a  whole,  without  attempting  to  penetrate 
and  to  seize  its  elements.  And  without  unduly  yielding  to 
popular  prejudices  or  abating  from  the  dignity  of  philoso- 
phy, we  may  safely  assert,  that  this  is  an  inquiry,  on  which 
an  appeal  may  with  propriety  be  made  to  the  common  expe- 
rience, and  the  commdn  convictions  and  expressions  of  the 
great  body  of  men.  And  we  no  sooner  make  the  appeal 
than  we  find,  that  the  testimony  from  that  source  is  unani- 
mous and  unequivocal. 

There  are  some  truths,  which  are  so  deeply  based  in  the 
human  constitution,  that  all  men  of  all  classes  receive  them, 
and  act  upon  them.  They  are  planted  deeply  and  immuta- 
bly in  the  soul,  and  no   reasoning,  however  plausible,  can 


.      IN    MAN'S    MORAL    NATURE.  2QS 

shake  them.  And  if  we  are  not  mistaken,  the  doctrine  of 
the  freedom  of  the  will,  as  a  condition  of  even  the  possibili- 
ty of  a  moral  nature,  is  one  of  these  first  truths.  It  seems 
to  he  regarded  by«ill  persons  without  any  exception,  as  a 
dictate  of  common  sense  and  as  a  first  principle  of  our  na- 
ture, that  men  are  morally  accountahle  and  are  the  suhjects 
of  a  moral  responsibility  in  any  respect  whatever,  only  so 
far  as  they  possess  freedom,  both  of  the  outward  action 
and  of  the  will.  They  hold  to  this  position  as  an  elementa- 
ry truth,  and  would  no  sooner  think  of  letting  it  go,  than  of 
abandoning  the  conviction  of  their  personal  existence  and 
identity.  They  do  not  profess  to  go  into  particulars,  but 
they  assert  it  in  the  mass,  that  man  is  a  moral  being  only  so 
far  as  he  is  free.  And  such  ^  unanimous  and  decided  tes- 
timony, bearing  as  it  obviously  does  the  seal  and  superscrip- 
tion of  nature  herself,  is  entitled  to  serious  consideration. 
In  view  of  the  various  suggestions  of  this  chapter,  (and 
further  illustrations  to  the  same  effect  might  be  given  if 
time  would  allow,)  we  are  abundantly  authorized  in  the  as- 
sertion, that  the  liberty  of  the  will  is  implied,  and  fully  and 
clearly  implied  in  the  fact  of  man's  possessing  a  moral  na- 
ture; and  that  if  he  possesses  such  a  nature,  he  possesses 
freedom. 


CHAPTER  FIFTH. 


OTHER  PROOFS  OF  FREEDOM  OF  THE  WILL. 


§.  173.  Evidence  of  the  Jreedom  of  the  will  from  languages. 

In  bringing  forward  the  various  considerations,which,  how- 
ever disconnected  with  each  other  in  themselves,  have  yet  a 
bearing  on  the  subject  before  us,  we  proceed  to  remark  fur- 
ther,tha*t  the  existence  of  the  freedom  of  the  will  may  be  ar- 
guedjwith  some  degree  of  force,  from  the  structure  of  all  lan- 
guages.— We  have  already  had  occasion  to  make  the  remark, 
that  every  language  is,  in  some  important  sense  of  the  terills, 
a  mirror  of  the  mind  ;  and  that  something  may  be  learnt  of 
the  tendencies  of  the  mind,  not  only  from  the  form  or  struc- 
ture of  languages  in  general,  but  even  from  the  import  of 

particular  terms. Now   it   is  undeniable,  that  the  terms 

LIBERTY  and  FREEDOM  and  other  terms  of  equivalent  import 
are  found  in  all  languages;  and  that  they  are  not  only  found 
in  application  to  nations,  but  to  individuals  ;  and  not  only 
in  application  to  outward  actions,  but  to  the  acts  of  the  wjll. 
But  if  men  are  in  fact  and  by  their  very  constitution  desti- 
tute of  liberty  of  the  will,  it  seems  impossible  to  give  any 
explanation  of  this  state  of  things.      So  that  it  is  a  natural 


FREEDOM*  OF    THE    WILE.  265 

,:•".•  ••'  '  •     •    . 

and  irresistible  inference,  if  we  can  infer  the  convictions  and^ 
belief  of  men  at  all  from  the  forms  of  speech,  that  they  uni- 
versally have  aconviction  and  belief  of  their  liberty  in  that 
respect.  And  -we  can  give  no  explanation  of  the  existence 
of,  such  conviction  or  belief,  except  on  the  ground  of  the 
actual  existence  of  that  freedotn,to  which  the  belief  relates. 

§.  1 75.  Evidence  ftom  the  occasional  suspension  of  the  wilVs  acts. 

.  Another  circumstance,  which  may  be  adduced  as  an  in- 
dication and  evidenca  of  the  freedom  of  the  Will,  is  the  fact 
of  the  occasional  suspension  or  delay  of  its  operations,  when 
its  action  is  solicited  by  the  pressure  of  motives,  which  hap- 
pen to  be  v'ariousand  conflicfing  in  their  kind,  though  all  of 
them  are  alike  powerful  and  urgent.  Without  atteqapting  to 
explain,  how  this  suspension  takes  place,  it  is  enough  for  our 
present  purpose  simply  to  state  the  fact,  as  it  constantly 
presents  itself  to  observation  and  notice,  viz,  that  at  times, 
when  motives  are  thronging  around  the  will  in  various  direc- 
tions,-and  ate  each  and  all  of  them  clamorous  for  an  action  of 
the  will  favorable  to  themselves,  the  will  nevertheless  does 
not  act.  It  is  true  some  persons  will  say,  and  probably  with 
correctness,  that  this  negation  of'suspension  of  action  is  it- 
self to  be  regarded  as  a  species  of  resolve  or  voluntary  deter- 
mination ;  that  while  the  willreserves*  itself,  so  to  speak,  for 
a  movement  based  upon  more  mature  enquiry,  this  very  re- 
servation of  its  action  is  itself  an  action.  Without  stopping 
to  comment  on  this  suggestion,  it  will  be  perceived,  that  the 
essential  idea  still  holds  good  and  indisputable,  viz,  that  the 
will  not  unfrequently,  for  some  reason  or  other  whatever  it 
may  be,  withblds  its  decision  in  respect  to  claims  that  are 
urged  by  motives;  of  no  small  eflScacy.  And  this  suspension 
of  the  Weill's  action  in  respect  to  such  claims,  on  whatever 
grounds  it  may  happen  and  what'ever  other  course  may  be 
34 


266  OTHilR    PROOFS    OF  .     ^ 

taken  by  the  will,  is  undoubtedly  to  be  regarded,  in  a  can- 
did view  of  the  subject,  as  a  characteristic  ?ind  a  prQoC.of  its 
freedom. 

§.  174.  J^vidence  of  the  freedom  oj  the  will  from  the  control 
which  every  man  has  over  his  own  motives  of  action. 

There  are  various  other  considerations,  which  are  enti- 
tled to  more  or  less  weight. — We  have  already  seen,  in  the 
Second  Part  of  this  "VVork,  that  the  will  is  subject  to  lawS; 
and  have  further  seen,  that  it  never  acts,  and  is  not  capable 
of  actingjCxcept  in  connection  with  antecedent  motives.  But 
it  is  a  striking  fact,  and  one  worthy  of  special  notice  in  con- 
nection with  the  will's  freedom,  that  we  ourselves  have  no 
inconsiderable  degree  of  control  over  these  motives.  If  the 
leader  has  in  memory  the  remarks  made  in  the  First  Part  of 
this  Work  on  the  connection  among  all .  the  great  depart- 
ments of  the  mind,  particularly  on  the  relation  of  the  Intel- 
lect to  the  will  and  of  the  Sensibilities  to  the  will,  he  will 
be  prepared  to  understand  and  receive  the  truth  of «  this 
remark.  Those  motives,  which  come  in  immediate  con- 
tact with  the  will  and  are  most  closely  connected  with 
its  action,  are  deposited,  not  in  the  ,  Understanding,  but  . 
in  the  Sensibilities;  are  not  mere  perceptions  of  the  in- 
tellect, but  are  impregnated  with  an  infusion  of  desire  and 
sentiment.  Still  they  undoubtedly  have  a  close  connection 
with  the  antecedent  acts  of  the  intellect.  There  must  be 
something  previously  perceived,  before  there  can  be  either 
desire  or  emotion.  It  is  impossible,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
that  we  should  have  the  feeling  of  desire  or  the  feeling  of 
obligation,  without  an  antecedent  act  of  the  intellect  or  un- 
derstanding, making  known  and  identifying  to  us  the  partic- 
ular object  of  desire,  and  the  particular  object,  to  which  the 
feeling  of  moral  obligation  relates-.-  Hence  as  the  sensibili- 
ties act  upon  the  will,  and  the  understanding  acts  upon  the 


FREEDOM  OF   THE    WILL.  267 

sensibilities,  we  may  in  some  degree  control  the  will  by  en- 
lightening the  undecstanding.  But  it  is  the  will,  which,  more 
than  any  thing  else,  is  the  counterpart,  or  the  synonym-per- 
haps,  of  the  personal  pronoun,  of  the  I  and  We,  which  are 
so  conspicuously  introduced  as  agents;  and  it  is  the  av ill, 
therefore,  which,  by  adopting  this  proces's  controls  itself.' 
The  voluntary  power,  operating  through  the  intellect,  may 
contract  or  expand  the  horizon  of  motives,  by  which  it  is 
surrounded,  and  in  this  way  regulate  by  anticipation  the  pos- 
sibilities and  probabilities,  if  not  the  absolute  certainty,  of 
its  own.  ulterior  action.  We  are  presented,  therefore,  in 
this  view  of  the  subject  with  an  instance  of  self-regulation, 
obviously  carried  on  under  the  control  and  within  the  limits 
of.law,  which  is  not  only  liberty  in  essence,  but  liberty  in 
its  most  interesting  and  perfect  form. 

§ .  175.   The  freedom  of  the  will  further  shown  from  the  attempts 
of  men  to  influence  the  conduct  of  their  fellow-men. 

The  freedom  of  the  will  seems  to  be  evinced  and  proved, 
furthermore,  from  the  manner,  in  which  we  address  our  fel- 
low men,  when  we  wish  them  to  pursue  a  certain  course  of 
conduct.  When  we  request  or  require  them  to  do  a  certain 
thing ,we  certainly  act  on  the  supposition  that  they  have  both 
the  power  and  the  liberty. to  do  it.  It  would  evidently  be  a 
very  fruitless  thing  to  attempt  by  means  of  persuasion  and 
argument  to  move  them  in  a  certain  direction,  if  they  were 
the  subjects  of  an  inflexible  destiny, and  destitute  of  the  power 
and  liberty  of  acting  in  accordance  with  what  is  proposed. 
Th?  view,  which  men  obviously  take  of  their  fellow-men  is, 
that  they  are  rational  beings;  that  the  considerations  addres- 
sed to  them  will  have  their  due  weight  ;  and  that  their  ac- 
ting or  not  acting  in  conformity  with  those  considerations 
is  a  matter  wholly  within  their  own  power,  and  in  respect  to 
which  they  are  entirely  and  completely  free. 


2C8'  OTHER    PROOFS    OF 

§.  176.  Further  evidence  frorn  the  observation  of  men^s  conduct. 

Among  other  sources  of  evidence  in  support  of  the  prop- 
osition of  the  will's  freedom,|ye  may  confidently  appeal  to 
the  observation  jof  what   is  constantly  taking  place  among 
men,  as  we  behold  them  ^engaged  in  the  pursuits  and  duties 
of  life .     Even  a  slight  notice  of  their  conduct  fully  justifies 
the  assertion,  that  men  act  universally,  as  if  they  felt  and 
knew  themselves  to  be  free.     In  making  this  statement  how- 
ever, we  may  properly  claim  to  be  understood. in  the  natu- 
ral importof  the   terms.     We  speak  of  men  in  general,  as 
we  see  them  in  the  dischatge  of  the  common  duties  of  life 
and  under  the  influence  of  ordinary  motives ;  and  not  of  those, 
whose  liberty  of  outward  action  is  restrained  by  chains  and 
dungeons;  nor  of  those,  ^hose   inward  liberty  has  .been 
perplexed  and  compromised  by  inordinate  indulgences,which 
inevitably  tend  to  bring  the  mind  more  or  less  within  the 
verge  of  insanity.     Within  the  limitation  implied  in  this  re- 
mark, a  very  slight  observation  discovers  to  us,  that  men  are 
constantly  in  action;  that  the  causes  of  action  exist  in  them- 
selves; and  that  in  all  the  numberless  varieties,  of  their  con- 
duct they  act  freely.     One  is  in  pursuit  of  honor,  another  of 
pleasure,  another  of  wealth  ;  one  acts   from  motives  of  in- 
terest, and  another  from  sentiments  of  duty;  one  has  solely 
in  view  the  promotion  of  his  own  personal  welfare,  another 
i;hat  of  mankind ;  but  in  each  and  all  of  these  cases  and   in 
all  others,  there  is  no  declaration  and  no  evidence  of  com- 
pulsion.   And  we  feel  the  force  of  this  statement  the  more, 
when  we  further  notice,  that   men  are  frequently  changing 
those  pursuits  to  which  their  attention  was  direciied  in  the 
first  instance ;  transferring  themselves  from  one  neighbor- 
hood to  another,  from  one  sphere  *of  life  to  another,   and. 
from  one  climate   to   anQther ;  and  adapting  their  feelings 


■■■•J 


FREEDOM    OF   THE    WILL.  jggS 

and  conduct  to  situations  never  before  experienced.  Every- 
where there  is  life,  activity,  movement,  energy;  plans  nev- 
er before  started;  new  methods  of  executing  them;  the  mo- 
tives and  conduct  of  one  individual,conflicting  with  those  of 
another,  and  varying  constantly  to  meet  conflicting  exigen- 
cies. And  does  all  this  bear  the  impress  of  fatality?  Are 
we  not  to  receive  these  facts  as  decisive  indications  of  lib- 
erty, even  if  it  be  true  that  we  are  unable  to  define  what 
liberty  is?  Can  we  even  conceive  of  a  freedom,  which  shall 
result  in  opening  a  wider  sphere,  or  in  securing  a  greater 
variety  of  action  ? 

§.  177.  Argued  further  from  the  view  taken  in  tjie  Scriptures. 

We  conclude  this  enumeration  of  circumstances,. which 
tend  to  illustrate  and  prove  the  existence  of  liberty  of  the 
will,  with  the  single  fact  further,  which  no  one  can  regard 
otherwise  than  as  entitled  to  our  serious  consideration,  that 
the  Scriptures  clearly  recognize  man  as  possessing  such  lib- 
erty. If  the  Scriptures  every  where  assert  the  omniscience 
and  superintendence  of  God,  and  announce  his  superinten- 
dence as  extending  to  the  minutest  thyags  and  events  both 
material  and  immaterial,  as  seems  to  be  abundantly  evident 
and  to  be  universally  admitted;  still  it  must  be  confessed  at 
the  same  time,  that  they  are  no  less  explicit  in  the  announce- 
ment, both  expressly  and  by  implication,  that  man 'has  pow- 
er, freedom,  and  accountability.  All  those  passages,  which 
call  upon  men  to  consider  of  their  ways,  obviously  imply, 
that  there  is  no  obstruction  in  the  way  of  their  considering; 
and  that  they  are  free  either  to  do  or  not  to  do  it.  All 
those  passages,  which  exhort  and  require  men  to  repent  of 
their  deeds,  obviously  imply  that  they  are  in  the  possession 
of  liberty,  and  that  there  is  no  obstacle  in  the  way  of  their 
repentance,  which  is  inconsistent  with  lilierty.  All  those 
passages,  which  enjoin  upolj^  men  the  performance  of  moral 


g70  OTHEE    PROOFS    OF 

and  religious  duties,  go  upon  the  supposition,  that  obedience 
and  disobedience  are  alike  within  the  sphere  of  their  choice; 
according  as  it  is  said  in  Job,  "  if  they  obey  they  shall 
spend  their  days  in  prosperity;  if  they  obey  not,  they  shall 
perish  by  the  sword."  Nothing  could, be  more  unmeaning 
and  insincere,  than  a  multitude  of  passages,  which  might 
be  brought  forward,  if  it  were  true  that  man  is  not  in  the' 
possession  of  liberty  of  will;  if  it  were  true  that  all  his  vo- 
litions are  put  forth  under  the  pressure  of  an  irresistible 
compulsion  ;  that  he  is  truly*  and  unavoidably  in  all  his  ac- 
tions under  a  mental  constraint.  "  Turn  ye,  turn  ye,-  from 
your  evil  ways  ;  for  why  will  ye  die,  O  house  of  Israel  ;"  is 
the  beautiful  and  affecting  language,  which  God  utters  to 
his  ancient  covenant  people  and  to  all  his  impenitent  chil- 
dren of  all  nations.  But  how  ungenerous  and  taunting  and 
hypocritical  it  must  appear;  how  inconsistent  with  the  spot- 
less holiness  of  God's  character  ;  how  like  giving  tears  for 
drink  and  ashes  for  bread  ;  .if  we  are  to  suppose,  that  men 
labour  under  a  natural  inability  of  turning,  and  that  they  are 
not  truly  possessed  of  freedom  of  the  will! 

§.  178.  Practictil  importance  of  the  doctrine  of  liberty. '     . 

If  we  have  not  stated  the  argument  on  the  side  of  free- 
dom so  clearly  and  forcibly,  and  so  much  at  length,  as  might 
have  been  done,  the  deficiency  occasions  the  less  solicitude, 
when  we  consider,  that  in  all. ages  of  the  world  the  doctrine 
in  question,  with  few  exceptions,  has  been  fully  and  univer- 
sally admitted.  Still  there  have  been  fouM  some  persons 
from  time  to  time,  who  have  maintained  and  have  believed 
the  opposite;  and  have  strenuously  endeavored  to  'give  a 
currency  to  their  opinions.  And  hence,  in  closing  these  re- 
marks on  the  subject  of*  the  freedom  of  the  wiH,  it  seems  a 
suitable  opportunity  to  say  something  on  its  practical  im- 
portance.    If  we  are  destitute  of  freedom,  we  certainly  can- 


FREEDOM    OF    THE  WILJ..-  271 

not  feel  moral  accountability  ;  and  whatever  course  we  may 
take  m  life,  even  if  it  be  entirely  injurious  and  sinful,  we 
shall  yet  feel,  that  we  are  not  properly  the  subjects  of  blame. 
Before,  therefore,  we  adopt  the  notion  of  man's  destitution 
of  liberty,  (if  indeed  it  be  possible  after  a  due  consideraticm 
of  what  has  been  said  on  the  subject,)  we  should  carefully 
and  seriously  consider  the  consequences. 

For  the  purpose  of  showing,  that  these   intimations  aro 
not  based  upon  unfounded  or  exaggerated  fears,  and  in  or- 
der more  clearly  to  illustrate   the   pernicious  consequences, 
to  which  erroneous  notions  on  this  subject  are  apt  to  lead, 
we  take  the  liberty  to  introduce   here  an   extract  "from  the 
writings  of  the  celebrated  M.  Biderot. — "  Examine  if  nar- 
rowly, says   M.  Diderot,   and   you  will  see,  that  the  word 
liberty  is  a  word  devoid  of  meaning  ;  that  there  are  not,  and 
that  there  cannot  be  free  beings  ;  that  we  are  only  what  ac- 
cords with  the  general  order,  with  our  organization,  our  ed- 
ucation, and  the  chain  of  events.     These  dispose  of  us  invin- 
cibly. We  can  no  more  conceive  of  a  being  acting  without  a 
motive  than  we  can  of  one  of  the  arn;is  of  a  balance   acting 
without  a  weight.     The  motive  is  always  exterior  and  for- 
eign, fastened  upon  us  by  some  cause  distinct  from  ourselves. 
What  deceives  us  is  the  prodigious  variety  of  our  actions, 
joined  to  the   habit  which  we  catch  at  our  birth,  of  confoun- 
ding the  voluntary  and  the  free.     We  have  been  so  often 
praised  and  blamed,  and  have  so  often  praised  and  blamed 
others,  that  we  contract  an  inveterate  prejudice  of  believing 
that  we,  and  they  iui//  and  act  freely.     But  if  there   is 'no 
liberty,  there  is  no  action  that  merits  either  prais6  or  blame j 
neither  vice  nor  virtue ;  nothing  that  ought  either  to  be  re- 
warded or  punished.     What  then  is  the  distinction  among 
men?  The  doing  of  goqd  and  the  doing  of  ill!     The  doer  of 
ill  is  one  who  must  be  destroyed  or  punished.     The  doer  of 
good  is  lucky,  not  virtuous.     But  though  neither  the  doer  of 


k 


272  OTHER    PROOFS    OF 

good  or  of  ill  be  free,  man  is  nevertheless  a  being  to  be  mod- 
ified ;  it  is  for  this  reason  the  doer  of  ill  should  be  destroy- 
ed upon  the  scaffold.  From  thence  the  good  effects  of  educa- 
tion, of  pleasure,  of  grief,  of  grandeur,  of  poverty,  .&c. ; 
from  thence  a  philosophy  full  of  pity,  strongly  attached  to 
the  good,  nor  more  angry  -v^ith  the  wicked,  than  the  whirl- 
wind which  fills  one's  eyes  with  dust."« 

.  It  seems  to  be  xinn'ecessary  to  -spend  time  in  commenting 
on  this  passage,  which  does  as  little  credit  to  the  heart  as 
the  head  of  its  author,  and  which  is  as  much  at  variance  with 
sound  philosophy,  as  if  is  with  good  morals  and  the  existence 
of  society.  Whereeyer  such  pernicious  principles  have  gain- 
ed a  "footing,  it  is  not  surprising,  that  the  intellect  should  be 
obscured  ;  that  the  sensibilities  should  be  blunted  ;  that  the 
ear  should  be  closed  to  the  names  of  truth  and  honour  ;.  that 
the  eye  should  be  sealed  to  the  effulgence  of  moral  beauty  ; 
that  crimes,  dreadfully  revolting  to  human  nature,  should  be 
multiplied  •  that  even  whole  kingdoms  should  be  convulsed, 
and  clothed  in  mourning  and  blood. 

Let  us,  then,  take  that  true  position,  which  is  clearly 
pointed  out  both  by  reason  and  the  Scriptures,  of  humble  de- 
pendence on  God .  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  solemn  respon- 
sibility for  our  conduct  on  the  other.  It  is  impossible  for  us 
to  form  too  high  notions  of  the  power,  wisdom,  and  super- 
intendence of  the  Deity  ;  nothing  is  more  favourable  to 
virtue  than  the  conviction  of  his  constant  presence  and  over- 
sight ;  but  at  the  same  time  we  ought  ever  to  remember, 
that  he  has  seen  fit  to  impart  to  us  a  moral  nature,  embracing 
the  elements  both  of  power  and  liberty  ;  and  whether  we 
account  this  giftasten  talents  or  five  or  only  one,  he  holds 
us  responsible  for  its  use,  and' will  punish  the  slothful  ser- 
vant, who  hides  Jit  in  the  earth.  "  For  whosoever  hath,  to  him 
shall  be  given,  and  he  shall  have  more  abundance  ;  but  whosoever 
hath  not,  from  him  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  he  hath.''^ 


CHAPTER  SIXTH. 


CONSISTENCY  OF  LAW  AND  FREEDOM. 


§.  179.   Objected  that  the  views  maintained  are  contradictory. 

We  are  now  so  far  advanced  in  our  inquiries  as  to  find 
^urselves  in  a  position,  where  we  are  met  by  the  objection, 
expressed  with  some  variety  of  phraseology  but  in  all  cases 
to  this  effect,  that  there  is  an  utter  inconsistency  and  contra- 
diction between  the  two  doctrines  of  the  freedom  of  the 
will  and  the  subjection  of  the  will  to  laws.  If  the  will  is 
free,  it  is  said,  it  cannot  be  subject  to  laws  ;  and  if  it  is  sub- 
ject to  laws,  it  cannot  be  free;  and  at  any  rate  there  is  some- 
thing utterly  incomprehensible  in  this  state  of  things. — The 
consideration  of  this  objection  will  occupy  our  attention  in 
this  Chapter  ;  and  at  the  same  time  will  incidentally  furnish 
an  opportunity  for  some  remarks,  which  may  not  be  unim- 
portant in  their  practical  applications. 

§.  180.  Answered  that  they  result  necessarily  from  the  evidence. 

In  remarking  upon  the   objection,  which  has  just  been 

stated,  and  which  undoubtedly  exists  in  the  minds  of  some 
35 


274  CONSISTENCY    OF 

candid  inquirers,  we  wish  it  to  be  noticed,  in  the  first  place, 
that  each  of  these  two  propositions,  viz,  that  the  will  is  sub- 
ject to  laws,  and  that  the  will  is  free,  rests  upon  its  appropri- 
ate evidence.  We  take  it  for  granted,  that  they  are  propo- 
sitions, which  have  a  meaning  and  which  can  be  understood; 
and  that  as  such  they  admit  of  the  application  of  reasoning, 
and  are  susceptible  either  of  affirmation  or  denial.  In  reas- 
oning upon  them,  they  have  been  made  separate  sub- 
jects of  contemplation.  The  arguments,  by  which  they  are 
respectively  supported  ,  are  entirely  distinct  ;  and  are  at  the 
same  time  so  appropriate  to  the  nature  of  the  subject  to  be 
proved,  and,  considered  as  a  whole,  bear  upon  it  with  so 
much  force,  that  it  is  difficult  to  conceive,  how  a  well-balanc- 
ed mind,  which  is  open  to  the  reception  of  truth,  can  resist 
the  conclusions,  to  which  they  lead. — And  in  making  this  as- 
sertion, we  do  not  wish  to  be  understood  as  offering  a  re- 
mark, which  is  to  be  taken  with  some  modification  and  dim- 
inution of  its  obvious  import.  The  remark  is  based  upon 
the  constitation  of  the  mind  itself ;  particularly  so  far  as  the 
nature  and  laws  of  belief  are  concerned  in  and  make  a  part 
of  that  constitution.  Every  one  knows,  that  our  belief  is 
not  a  matter,which  is  under  our  control,  in  such  a  sense  that 
we  can  believe  or  not  believe,  as  we  happen  to  choose.  The 
mind  is  so  constituted,  that  we  exercise  belief,  not  in  accor- 
dance with  a  mere  and  direct  act  of  volition,  but  in  accord- 
ance with  the  nature  and  amount  of  the  evidence,  which 
happens  to  be  before  the  mind  at  the  precise  moment  of  be- 
lief 

And  with  this  view  of  things  in  memory,  we  feel  fully 
authorized  in  saying,  that  the  evidence,  which  has  been 
brought  forward  in  support  of  the  proposition  of  the  will's 
subjection  to  laws,  is  such  as  in  ordinary  cases  to  remove 
all  doubt.  We  look  upon  the  proposition  as  proved  ;  not 
merely  as  probable,  but  as  certain.     It  is  not  a  matter,  the 


LAW     AND    FREEDOM.  275 

reception  and  credence  of  which  is  left  to  our  own  choice  ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  such  is  the  constitution  /of  the  human 
mind,  we  cannot  possibly  do  otherwise  than  believe. — And 
these  statements  will  apply  equally  well  to  both  propositions. 
The  proposition  of  the  will's  freedom  is  attended  with  such 
an  amount  of  evidence,  appropriate  to  the  point  to  be  es- 
tablished, as  to  be  equally  beyond  doubt,  equally  certiain. 
We  receive  both  with  a  full  and  unwavering  conviction;  and 
such  are  the  nature  and  fundamental  principles  of  belief, 
that  we  are  unable  to  withhold  such  conviction. 

If  then  our  belief  involves  what  appears  to  us  at  present 
an  inconsistency  or  even  a  contradiction,  (we  do  not  say, 
what  we  know  to  be  a  contradiction  but  what  appears  to  be 
such,)  it  is  a  matter  which  we  cannot  help,  and  in  respect  to 
which,  although  we  might  wish  it  to  be  otherwise,  we  should 
give  ourselves  no  unnecessary  trouble.  We  are  in  the  same 
situation,  (certainly  not  a  less  favorable  one,)  as  the  sincere 
inquirer  in  other  things.  Does  the  natural  philosopher,  in 
pursuing  the  investigation  of  facts,  stop  to  inquire  what  doc- 
trines formerly  received  it  will  either  favor  or  conflict  with, 
what  system  it  will  build  up  or  put  down,  what  new  and  in- 
explicable mysteries  it  will  involve  ?  Is  he  not  obliged  to 
adhere  to  the  testimony,  that  is  fairly  presented  to  him, 
wherever  it  may  go;  even  if  it  should  lead  into  a  world  not 
of  pure  light,  but  of  mingled  darkness  and  light?  And  in 
like  manner,  in  respect  to  the  question  before  us,  let  us  go 
firmly  and  frankly  wherever  the  evidence  conducts  ;  even  if 
it  should  be  found  to  lead  us,  as  no  doubt  it  will,  to  a  great 
mystery,  where  the  human  mind  stops  and  starts  back,  appal- 
led on  the  one  hand  by  its  own  feebleness,  and  on  the  other 
overwhelmed  by  the  greatness  of  the  divine  wisdom. 

§.  181.  Denial  of  the  alledged  coiUradicHon, 

In  answer,  therefore,  to  the  objection  which  has  been  re- 


276  CONSISTENCY    OF 

ferred  to,  we  say  in  the  first  place,  that  we  are  bound  by 
the  evidence,  whatever  difficulties  may  attend  the  relative 
adjustment  of  the  results.  If  the  objection  were  to  some  ex- 
tent a  valid  and  admissible  one,  (that  is  to  say,  if  there 
were  truly  an  appearancey  a  degree  of  probability,  of  incon- 
sistency and  contradiction,)  this  answer  would  be  sufficient. 
But  it  is  proper  to  say  further,that  there  is  no  satisfactory 
evidence,either  in  a  higher  or  lower  degree,  of  the  inconsis- 
tency and  contradiction,  which  has  been  alledged  to  exist. 
It  has  undoubtedly  sometimes  happened,  either  by  design 
or  from  mere  carelessness,  that  men  have  so  framed  their 
speech,  have  so  selected  and  constructed  their  formulary  of 
words,  as  to  make  a  contradiction,  when  there  is  none  in  the 
nature  of  things,  and  none  in  fact.  If  we  define  freedom  to 
be  an  exemption  from  law,  then  no  doubt  the  proposition  of 
the  will's  subjection  to  law  implies  the  exclusion  of  liberty. 
But,  although  bodily  freedom  can  be  defined,  mental  free- 
dom, as  we  have  already  had  occasion  to  remark,  is  not  sus- 
ceptible of  definition;  it  is  something  indeed,  whieh  is  a  mat- 
ter of  experience  and  is  known  by  consciousness,  but  like 
the  simple  and  elementary  ideas  of  identity,  duration,  space, 
power,  unity,  and  the  like,  it  cannot  be  described  by  words. 
And  if  it  were  otherwise,  the  definition  of  liberty  above 
mentioned  would  be  wholly  inadmissible;  for  exemption 
from  law  is  so  far  from  constituting  liberty,  that  it  might  be 
shown  upon  grounds  entirely  satisfactory,  that  there  can  be 
no  liberty,  not  even  a  possibility  of  it,  where  law  has  no 
place.  So  that  we  feel  fully  authorized  in  saying,  although 
we  are  under  the  necessity  of  leaving  the  inquiry  with  these 
few  words,  that  there  is  no  evidence  of  contradiction  in  the 
case. 

§.  182.  Mmissionofinexplicableness  or  mystery, 
Put  if  it  be  merely  said,  that  there  is  something  inexpli^ 


i 


LAW    AND    FREEDOM.  377 

cable  or  incomprehensible,  something  mysterious  in  the  rela- 
tion of  the  two  propositions,  which  have  been  considered,  it 
is  not  easy  to  deny,  that  there  is  truth  in  the  remark.  We 
cannot  imagine,  that  there  is  any  undue  humiliation,  any 
thing  discreditable  in  the  acknowledgement,  that  such  is  the 
fact.  Nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  there  are  many 
things,  into  the  full  measure  of  whose  length  and  breadth 
and  height  and  depth,  the  human  mind,  in  the  present  state 
of  existence  and  under  the  present  economy  of  things, 
has  never  been  able  to  penetrate.  And  it  is  undoubt- 
edly the  mark  of  true  wisdom,  frankly  to  acknowledge 
our  ignorance  in  those  cases  where  it  must  infallibly 
exist,  and  not  to  indulge  either  in  pretensions  which 
are  unfounded,  or  in  complaints  which  are  useless.  Such 
advice  indeed  may  not  be  entirely  acceptable  to  men 
of  a  captious  temper  or  of  an  intellect  imperfectly  dis- 
ciplined; but  it  is  fully  warranted  by  correct  views  of  our 
own  powers,  and  of  the  relations  we  sustain  to  other  beings. 
"The  most  enlightened  of  men,  says  Robert  Hall,  have  al- 
ways been  the  first  to  perceive  and  acknowledge  the  remain- 
ing obscurity  which  hung  around  them;  just  as,  in  the 
night,  the  further  a  light  extends,  the  wider  the  surrounding 
sphere  of  darkness  appears.  Hence  it  has  always  been  ob- 
served, that  the  most  profound  inquirers  into  nature  have 
been  the  mpst  modest  and  humble."  These  remarks  of  a 
writer,  so  distinguished,  not  only  for  refinement  of  taste  and 
fervour  of  piety,  but  for  philosophical  acuteness,  naturally 
remind  us  of  some  sayings  of  Mr.  Locke,  which  indicate  at 
the  same  time  his  characteristic  modesty  and  candour,  and 
his  views  of  the  very  difficulty  which  we  are  now  examin- 
ing. "  I  own  freely  to  you  the  weakness  of  my  understan- 
ding, that,  though  it  be  unquestionable  that  there  is  omnip- 
otence and  omniscience  in  God  our  Maker,  and  thongh  I 
cannot  have  a  clearer  perception  of  any  thing  than  that  I  am 


278  CONSISTENCY    OF 

free,  yet  I  cannot  make,  [meaning  undoubtedly  that  he  could 
not  explain  and  clear  up  in  all  respects  how  it  should  be  so,] 
freedom  in  man  consistent  with  omnipotence  and  omni- 
science in  God,  though  1  am  as  fully  persuaded  of  both  as  of  any 
truth  I  most  firmly  assent  to;  and  therefore  I  have  long  since 
given  off  the  consideration  of  that  question,resolving  all  into 
this^short  conclusion,  that[if  it  be  possible  for  God  to  make  a 
free  agent,  then  man  is  free,though  I  see  not  the  way  of  it." 

§.  183.  Of  the  limited  powers  of  the  human  mind. 

In  this  connection,  and  as  tending  to  support  the  views 
of  this  Chapter,  we  think  it  proper  to  make  a  few  general 
suggestions  in  respect  to  the  limited  powers  of  the  human 
mind.  We  may  regard  it  as  a  well  established  principle, 
that  the  mind  of  man,  although  it  may  be  indefinitely  pro- 
gressive in  some  directions,  is  subject  to  the  restriction  of 
impassible  barriers  in  others.  How  many  objects  of  knowl- 
edge, in  the  sphere  of  material  as  well  as  mental  nature, 
have  altogether  set  at  nought  the  inquiries  of  men!  Be- 
yond the  boundaries,  whatever  they  may  be,  which  God  has 
assigned  as  the  barriers  of  our  faculties,  is  the  land  of  dark- 
ness, the  region  of  hieroglyphics,  the  habitation  of  myste- 
ries. We  use  these  expressions  not  in  lightness  of  spirit,but 
merely  to  convey  the  fact  as  it  exists,  and  with  profound  ven- 
eration; for  if  those  dark  and  mysterious  places  are  not  occu- 
pied by  the  human  mind,  it  is  certain  that  they  are  occupied 
and  filled  by  another  mind  infinitely  greater.  The  existence 
of  mysteries,  beyond  its  allotted  sphere  of  action  and  inqui- 
ry, is  necessarily  an  incident  to  every  created  mind;  for  the 
mere  fact  of  being  created  necessarily  implies  inferiority  ; 
and  that  too  in  perception  as  well  as  in  power  In  one  sense 
indeed,  it  may  be  admitted,  that  man  is  great,  and  the  hon- 
ored possessor  of  great  and  wonderful  faculties.  Certainly 
this  is  the  case,  when  we  compare  him  with  the  lower  ani- 


LAW    AND    FREEDOM.  279 

mals,  that  have  no  moral  nature,  and  seem  destined  soon  to 
perish.  But  let  him  never  forget,  that  under  other  circum- 
stances the  view  presented  is  entirely  the  reverse,  and  that 
he  is  as  blind  in  intellect  as  he  is  poor  in  power,  in  compari- 
son v»rith  God.  He,  who  suitably  realizes  the  relation 
which  he  sustains  to  the  all-wise  Jehovah,  will  not  presume 
to  compare  his  feeble  intellect  with  the  infinite  Godhead; 
his  understanding  of  yesterday  just  kindling  into  light  and, 
life,  with  the  everlasting  Sun  of  knowledge,  ever  effulgent 
and  inexhaustible.  Let  this  modesty  of  true  wisdom,  so 
suitable  on  every  subject,  have  its  due  place  in  the  matter 
under  examination.  If  we  cannot  see  how  the  subjection 
of  the  will  to  law  is  consistent  with  its  freedom,  while  irres- 
istible evidence  compels  us  to  believe  both  the  liberty  and 
the  law,  let  us  arraign  our  incapacity  rather  than  the  proof 
before  us. 

§.  184.    We  find  things  which  cannot  be  explained  every  where. 

If  there  were  no  other  mysteries  in  the  universe  but  the 
one  in  question,  it  might  be  thought  less  reasonable  to  sub- 
mit quietly  to  our  inability  to  explain  it.  But  they  are  found 
all  around  us  ;  they  exist  every  where  ;  and  every  where 
baffle  our  curiosity.  We  generally  suppose  it  to  be  other- 
wise, because  it  may  happen  that  we  are  unable  to  point  them 
out;  but  our  inability  to  do  this  is  owing  to  the  fact  of  our 
not  having  given  attention  to  the  subject.  We  do  indeed 
sometimes  direct  our  attention  to  the  mysteries,  which  are 
placed  at  a  distance  from  us  ;  but  it  is  seldom  that  we  look 
at  those,  which  are  near  at  hand.  In  the  time  of  the  Apostle 
Paul,  the  opposers  of  Christianity  objected  particularly  to 
the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  from  tile  dead,  on  account  of 
its  being  so  mysterious,  inexplicable,  and  wonderful  ;  but 
they  did  not  consider,  till  the  Apostle  reminded  them  of  the 
fact,  that  the  conversion  of  the  seed  sown  in  the  ground  into 


280  CONSISTENCY    OF 

the  stalk  or  plant  is  no  less  wonderful,  no  less  mysterious. 
Perhaps  we  might  be  justified  in  going  so  far  as  to  say, 
there  is  nothing,  however  familiar  it  may  be,  which  is  not 
in  some  of  its  aspects  replete  with  mystery. 

Can  we  explain  how  the  soul  and  body  exist  and  act  to- 
gether ?  Can  we  understand  how  God,  who  is  a  spirit,  can 
fill  all  places  with  his  presence  ?  Can  we  comprehend,  how 
under  any  circumstances  mind,  which  is^so  entirely  distinct, 
can  operate  upon  matter  and  put  it  in  motion,  as  is  the  fact  in 
our  ordinary  acts  of  volition  ?  Can  we  explain  the  opera- 
tions of  matter  itself,  even  the  growth  of  a  blade  of  grass  ? 
Do  not  the  most  familiar  appearances  of  nature,  though  easily 
explainable  in  some  things,  present  in  others  insuperable  dif- 
ficulties? And  why  then  should  we  account  it  particularly 
unlooked  for  and  strange,  that,  in  the  two  distinct  doctrines 
of  the  will's  freedom  and  the  will's  subjection  to  law,  we 
should  find  something,  which  withstands  our  penetration  and 
baffles  our  sagacity  ? 

§.  185.    Illustrated  from  the  influence  of  me  man  over  another: 

We  would  furthermore  propose  to  such  as  are  disposed 
to  insist  upon  the  difficulty  under  consideration,  that  the 
same  difficulty,  or  at  least  one  closely  analogous,is  constantly 
occurring  in  common  life.  We  refer  to  the  fact,  which  is  too 
obvious  to  admit  of  any  denial,  that  one  man  is  capable  of 
controlling,  and  does  in  fact  control,  the  will  of  another. 
By  his  wealth,  or  personal  address,  or  persuasive  language, 
or  powers  of  reasoning  he  bends  his  neighbour  to  his  own 
purposes.  This  is  seen  particularly  in  the  case  of  the  orator, 
who  addresses  the  public  assembly  ;  and  who  sometimes 
not  only  sways  the  individuals  composing  it  to  his  own  pur- 
poses, but  does  it  against  the  views  and  the  determinations, 
which  they  had  previously  formed.  Now  here  is  a  case,where, 
according  to  the  common  understanding  of  it,  the  will  of  one 


LAW    AND    FREEDOM.  g81 

man  or  of  many  men  is  under  the  control  of  another  ;  and 
yet  it  is  not  the  common  understanding  or  the  common  feel- 
ing, that  the  will  of  the  former  is  not  free.  Here  is  a  case, 
in  which  law  and  liberty  are,  by  our  own  adfnission,  united 
together;  subjection  and  freedom  are  found  in  a  state  of  com- 
bination. And  why  should  we  say,  that  what  is  possi- 
ble with  men  is  impossible  with  God? 

§.  186.  .The  opposite  supposition  attended  with  equal  difficulty. 
t 
But  there  'is  another  consideration,  which  is  worthy  of 

the  attention  of  the  objector. — Before  we  arraign  the  views, 
which  have  been  given,  it  seems  proper  to  look  at  the  results 
of  the  opposite  scheme.  If  we  exonerate  the  action  of  the 
will  from  the  influence  of  all  law,  and  leave  it  to  the  irregu- 
lar control  of  what  may  be  variously  termed  accident,  indif- 
erency,orcontingency,wedo  not  thereby  secure  its  freedom. 
Can  that  mind  be  free,which  knows  not  at  one  moment,  nor 
can  even  conjecture, what  may  be  its  position,  its  acts,  or  its 
destiny  at  the  next  moment  ?  It  is  very  much  in  the  position 
of  that  people,  who  are  under  the  direction  of  an  irresponsi- 
ble despotism,  compared  with  which,  a  despotism,which  is  in 
any  degree  subject  to  law,  is  quite  tolerable.  A  will  without 
law  is  necessarily  subjected  to  the  highest  despotism.  At  one 
moment  the  volition  may  be  in  one  direction;  the  next  in  a 
direction  altogether  opposite,  without  the  ability  to  secure 
any  fixed  result.  And  it  seems  to  be  impossible  in  the  na- 
ture of  things,  that  man  should  be  conscious,  (and  its  exis- 
tence and  nature  are  learnt  from  consciousness  alone,)  of 
freedom  under  such  circumstances.  It  is  wholly  inconceiva- 
ble. So  that,  let  the  question  be  argued  as  it  may,  it  will 
always  be  found  in  the  human  mind,  as  in  civil  government, 
that  law  is  the  basis  ofjiberty.  ^ 

36 


::82  CONSISTENCY    OF 

§.  187.  Both  views  are  to  he  fully  received. 

In  respect,  then,  to  the  two  distinct  doctrines  of  the  will's 
freedom  and  its  subjection  to  law,  there  remains  nothing  to 
be  done,  but  the  cheerful,  ready,  and  complete  reception  of 
both.  And  with  the  views  which  we  entertain,  the  outlines 
of  which  have  been  imperfectly  laid  before  the  reader,  we 
are  constrained  earnestly  to  insist  upon  this,  as  the  only  cor- 
rect and  satisfactory  position.  Thje  doctrine,  that  the  will 
has  its  laws,  is  very  important,  considered  'in  connection 
with  the  relation,  which  men  sustain  to  the  Supreme  Being. 
This  view  places  the  will  in  subordination  to  that  higher  and 
more  glorious  Intelligence,  from  whom  the  laws,  to  which 
it  is  amenable,  proceed.  By  adopting  this  doctrine,  we  are 
enabled  to  understand,  how  his  full  and  perfect  superinten- 
dence can  be  maintained.  He  has  himself  assured  us,  that 
he  is  intimately  acquainted  with  the  outward  actions  of  men, 
that  he  knoweth  their  down-sitting  and  up-rising;  and  it  is 
a  pleasing  and  consoling  thought,  that  his  care  and  exact 
scrutiny  may  be  extended  even  to  the  mind  itself.  Who 
will  not  rejoice  to  be,  in  soul  as  well  as  in  body,  in  the 
hands  of  God?  Who  will  feel,  that  there  could  be  any  bet- 
ter provision  for  his  security,  than  is  thus  furnished  by  the 
constancy  and  nearness  of  the  Divine  presence  ?  Who  will 
attach  any  value  even  to  independence  itself,  when  purcha- 
sed at  the  measureless  expense  of  an  exemption  from  the  su- 
perintendence of  the  Deity  ? 

§.    188.    The  doctrine  of  the  wilVs  freedom  equally  important 
with  that  of  Us  subjection  to  law. 

On  the  other  hand  the  doctrine,  that  the  will  is  free,  in 
a|>y  correct  and  intelligible  sense  of»  that  term,  is  of  equal 
practical  importance,  since  it  is  obviously  essential  to  man's 


LAW    AND    FREEDOM.  283 

moral  character  and  accountableness.  It  is  a  great  truth, 
which  demands  to  be  received  with  entire  and  unwavering 
confidence,  that  God  has  made  man  in  his  own  image;  and 
that  in  doing  this  he  has  seen  fit  to  constitute  him  with  the 
attributes  of  freedom  and  power,  as  well  as  with  the  other 
attributes,  which  are  requisite  to  a  rational  and  morally  ac- 
countable nature.  In  the  sphere  which  is  given  him,  (a  lim- 
ited one  undoubtedly,  but  still  actually  existing,  and  always 
on  the  increase,)  he  has  not  only  the  ability,  but  is  under  the 
requisition  of  acting  for  himself.  No  plea  of  inability  can 
ever  be  admitted  as  an  excuse  for  negligence,  still  less  for 
utter  inaction.  There  are  claims,  therefore,  binding  upon 
every  man,  which  he  cannot  resist.  So  that  the  truest  and 
highest  philosophy  is  to  be  found  in  that  passage  of  Scrip- 
ture, "  Work  out  your  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trem- 
bling, for  it  is  God  which  worketh  in  you  both  to  will  and 
to  do,  of  his  own  good  pleasure,"  It  expresses  the  great 
truth,  and  we  may  add,  the  great  mystery,  of  the  harmonious 
combination  of  power  and  dependence.  And  it  is  the  same  in 
other  things  as  in  religion,  that,  if  we  will  act  for  ourselves 
under  the  impulse  of  right  feelings,  our  Maker  will  take 
compassion  upon  us,  and  act  in  our  behalf ;  that,  if  we  will 
faithfully  do  our  .duty,  God  will  be  as  faithful  to  help  us. 
Not  an  hour  is  spent  in  effort  of  afiy  kind,  in  conformity 
with  the  directions  of  an  enlightened  conscience,  and  to  use 
those  famous  expressions  of  Milton, 

As  ever  in  our  great  Task-master's  eye, 
which  is  not  attended  with  a  divine  blessing.  The  doctrine 
of  a  combination  of  power  on  the  part  of  men  with  complete 
superintendence  on  the  part  of  God,  brings  God  and  men  in- 
to harmony  with  each  other;  it  fully  makes  men  co-*workers 
with  God,  and  yet  under  the  two  fold  condition,  without 
which  God  can  neither  be  a  sovereign  nor  man  a  moral  agent, 
of  responsibility  and  dependence. 


i 


CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 


ENTHRALMENT  OR  SLAVERY  OF  THE  WIL,!,. 


§.   189.    Of  the  occasions  of  mental  enthralment. 

It  here  seems  to  come  in  course  to  offer  some  explana- 
tions on  what  may  be  termed  the  Enthralment  or  slavery  of 
the  will.  The  explanation  of  this  subject,  however  difficult 
it  might  prove  when  undertaken  separate  from  and  indepen- 
dent of  other  views  of  the  will,  seems  to  follow  easily,  and 
we  may  add,  almost  necessarily,  from  the  views,  which  have 
been  taken  of  the  freedom  of  the  voluntary  power.  It  has 
appeared  from  variousdremarks  made  in  preceding  chapters, 
Jthat  a  knowledge  of  freedom,  as  actually  existing  in  the 
mind  in  general  or  in  any  part  of  the  mind,  can  be  possessed 
only  by  means  of  our  own  personal  Consciousness.  And  it 
has  furthermore  appeared,  that  the  circumstances  .or  occasion, 
on.  which  mental  freedom  actually  exists  in.  the  highest  de- 
gree, is  to  be  found  in  the  harmony  of  the  mind's  action..  In 
other  words,  freedom  exists  in  fact  and  exists  in  the  highest 
degree,  when  all  the  mental  powejcs  are  in  the  precise  place, 
which  their  Creator  designed  for  them,  and  when  their  oper- 
ations ar^  conducted  without  their  coming  into  conflict  with 


ENTHRALMENT    OF    THE    WILL,  2S5 

each  other.  This  is  a. position  of  thentental  powers,  which 
by  the  very  nature  of  the  mind  is  incidental  and  prerequisite 
to  the  liighest  degree  of  freedom;  and  every. deviation  from 
it  is  attended  with  an  interruption  and  diminution  of  that 
perfection  of  inward  liberty,  which  men  would  otherwise 
possess. 

But  if  this  view  in  respect  to  freedom  be  a  correct  one, 
then  we  are  naturally  led  to  suppose  and  to  believe,  that  the 
precise  opposite  will  be  found  to  furnish  the  prerequisite  cir- 
cumstance or  the  occasion  of  mental  enthralment.  And  such 
is  undoubtedly  the  fact.  In  other  words,  whenever  we  find 
an  internal  jarring* and  conflict,  whenever  one  power  over- 
leaps its  bounds  and  another  is  jostled  from  ils  place,  we  are 
conscious  of  Want  of  freedom  in  a  grfeater  or  less  degree,  or, 
what  ip  the  same  thing,  of  enthralment  or  slavery.  And  es- 
pecially we  have  a  sense  of  this  internal  enthralment,  when- 
ever, in  consequence  of  some  inordinate  appetite  or  some 
victorious  propensity  or  passion,  that  presiding  authority, 
which  is  lodged  in  the  will,  fails  to  execute  what  it  obvious- 
ly ought  to,  and  what  the  conscience  pronounces  to  be  right 
and  requires  to  be  done. 

§.  190.  Inability  to  define  enthralment  or  slavery, 

•  But  what  is  meant  by  enthralment  or  slavery?  What 
verbal  definition  can  we  give? — If  the  question  related  to 
the  enthralment  or  slavery  of  the  body,  we  could  probably 
give  a  statement,  or  definition  perhsips,  that  would  fully  and 
precisely  meet  the  question.  But  we  have  already  had  oc- 
casion distinctly  to  intimate,  that  the  nature  of  corporeal  en- 
thralment and  liberty  throws  no  light,  or  at  most  but  a  fee- 
ble and  doubtful  ray,  upon  that  of  the  mind.  We  are  not 
more,  able,  by  any  mere  form  of  words,  to  explain  what  is 
meant  by  slavery,  when  that  Jterm  is  applied  to  the  mind, 
than  we  are  to  define  mental  freedom.     In  both  cases  we 


286  ENTHRALMENT    OR 

are  obliged  to  refer  each  one  to  his  own  internal  experience; 
but  with  a  full  conviction  at  the  same  time,  that  this  refer- 
ence will  fully  answer  the  purpose,  and  cannot  leave  him  in 
doubt. 

On  the  supposition,  therefore,*  that  each  one  as  fully  un- 
derstands what  is  meant  by  enthralment  as  by  freedom,  and 
that  there  is  no  mistake  or  doubt  in  either  case,  we  repeat 
again,  that,  whenever  there  is  a  want  of  harmony  in  the  mind, 
there  is  always  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  enthralment. 
This  want  of  harmony,  this  internal  jarring  and  conflict,  thi| 
aggression  and  resistance  of  the  mental  powers  will  always 
exist,  whenever  auy  appetite,  propensity,  or  passion  of  what- 
ever character  swells  over  its  allotted  limits,  and  becomes  un- 
duly and  inordinately  powerful.  If  we  may  be  allowed  to 
use  such  expressions,  every  part  of  the  mind  instinctively 
knows  its  appropriate  place,  and  w  ill  not  suffer  itself  to  be 
thrust  from  it  without  much  remonstrance  and  resistance. 
If  such  resistance  is  not  successful,  and  if  some  one  inward 
principle,  without  regard  to  the  original  constitution  of  the  . 
mind  and  the  equitable  admonitions  of  conscience,  usurps  an 
undue  control  over  others,  we  are  conscious  of  what  we  may 
properly  term  mental  slavery;  at  least  in  respect  to  that 
particular  part  or  faculty,  which  especially  suffers  under  this 
usurpation.  ..  *    * 

§.  191.   The  nature  of  mental  enthralment  illustrated  by  a  ref- 
ference  to  extorted  promises. 

It  may  possibly  be  found  difficult  for  the  reader  *at  first 
to  apprehend  the  view  here  given,  (and  the  same  may  be  said 
perhaps  of  various  other  topics  which  have  come  under  our 
notice,)  in  consequence  of  such  apprehension  depending  so 
much  on  his  own  internal  reflection.  That  he  must  look 
within,  and  consult  what  takes  place  there,  is  true.  And  as 
it   is   undoubtedly   desirable,  that   such   internal  reflection 


•  SLAVERY    OF    THE    WILL.  287 

should  be  called  into  exercise  as  much  as  possible,  we  will 
endeavour  to  aid  it  by  some  instances. — We  will  take  the 
case  of  a  man,  who  is  travelling  through  an  extensive  forest, 
and  unexpectedly  meets  with,  robbers.  They  suddenly  pre- 
sent their  pistols  to  him,  and  threaten  him  with  immediate 
death,  unless  he  promises  to  deposit  a  certain  sum  in  a  speci- 
fied place  on  a  certain  day.  He  promises  that  he  will  do  it. 
And  it  is  an  obvious  question  here,  what  is  the  view,  which 
men  of  plain  common  sense  and  the  community  generally 
take  of  such  a  transaction  ?  They  evidently  do  not  consid- 
er it  on  the  same  footing  with  a  promise  made  under  other 
circumstances;  they  do  not  regard  it  as  a  bona  fide  promise 
and  morally  binding,  even  when  they  judge  it  expedient,  in 
view  of  some  incidental  circumstances,  that  it  should  be  ful- 
filled. They  always  make  a  distinction,(and  it  is  a  distinction 
which  is  fully^recognised  in  law  both  Municipal  and  Inter- 
national,) between  an  extorted  promise  and  a  free  promise. 
And  if  an  extorted  promise  is  actually  different  from,  a  free 
one,  it  must  be  because  extortion  implies  a  degree  of  enthral- 
ment.     And  this  is  the  fact. 

When  the  question  of  life  and  death  is  placed  before  a 
man  at  once,  and  without  giving  him  time  for  reflection  and 
for  strer.gthening  his  resolves,  the  fear  becomes  so  exces- 
sive that  there  is  no  sort  of  proportion  between  the  strength 
of  the  motive,  and  that  of  other  principles  within  him,  which 
might  furnish  the  elements  of  resistance.  Those  supports,up- 
on  which  the  will  is  wont  to  rely  in  seasons  of  trying  assault 
and  great  emergency,  are  suddenly  overthrown  ;  and  it  is 
prostrated  and  carried  away  captive  almost  without  a  conflict. 
The  person  himself,  if  the  circumstances  are  of  a  nature  so 
decisive  as  has  been  stated,  experiences  no  convictions  of 
guilt  for  subsequently  violating  a  promise  made  under  such 
a  mental  pressure,  nor  is  he  condemned  by  the  moral  sense 
of  the  community  at  large.     They  perceive  almost  instinc- 


288  ENTHRALMENT    OR 

tively,  that  by  a  sudden  conjuncture  of  circumstances,  for 
which  the  individual  is  not  himself  responsible,  the  due  bal- 
ance and  harmony  of  the  powers  of  the  mind  has  been  de- 
stroyed 5  and  that  it  is  unreasonable  in  such  a  state  of  things 
to  expect  results,  which  can  properly  be  the  subjects  either 
of  praise  or  blame. 

§.  192.  Illustration  of  the  same  subject  from  cases  oj  torture. 

We  may  propose  another  illustration,  which  will  help  to 
make  the  subject  more  fully  and  clearly  understood.  In  for- 
mer ages  it  was  no  uncommon  practice  to  put  persons  to  the 
torture,  in  order  to  obtain  their  testimony.  They  were  first 
subjected  to  the  darkness  and  privations  of  a  dungeon  ;  and 
after  being  worn  down  by  this  gradual  form  of  suffering, 
their  feet  were  applied  to  heated  plates  of  iron  ;  their  flesh 
was  burnt  and  torn  bj^  pincers  ;  their  limbs  -v^ere  wrenched 
and  almost  forced  asunder  ;  and  in  these,  and  in  various 
other  ways  they  were  compelled  to  endure  almost  every  pos- 
sible degree  of  misery.  And  it  was  not  unfrequently  the 
case,  that  persons  under  this  extremity  of  suffering  uttered 
what  was  untrue.  But  no  one  thinks  of  condemning  the 
moral  delinquency,  if  it  existed  at  all  under,  such  circumstan- 
ces,as  equalling  the  aggravation  of  a  falsehood  uttered  in  ordi- 
nary cases.  In  all  such  cases  every  body  perceives  and  feels, 
that  the  due  balance  and  harmony  of  the  mind  is  destroyed. 
Such  an  extreme  pressure  is  brought  to  bear  upon  the  mind 
in  a  particular  direction,  that  its  parts  become,  for  the  time 
being,  dislocated,  and  utterly  incapable  of  any  just  and  ac- 
countable action.  In  other  words  there  is  an  utter  slavery- 
of  the 'voluntary  power,  and  as  the  iudividuaT  is  not  the 
cause  of  putting  himself  in  this  situation,  we  often  only  sym- 
pathize and  pity,  when  we  should  otherwise  condemn.  It 
is  indeed  possible  for  us  to  condemn  in  some  degree,  when 
the  suffering  does  not  appear  to  be  extreme;  but  the  con- 


SLAVERY    OF      THE    WILL.  289 

demnation  is  always  mitigated,  and  in  many  cases  does  not 
exist  at  all. 

"The  common  sense  of  mankind,  says  Mr.  Stewart,  pro- 
nounces men  to  be  accountable  for  their  conduct,  only  in  so 
far  as  they  are  understood  to  be  morally  free.  Whence  is 
it,  that  we  consider  the  pain  of  the  rack  as  an  alleviation  of 
the  falsehoods  extorted  from  the  criminal?  Plainly  because 
the  motives  presented  to  him  are  supposed  to  be  such  as  no 
ordinary  degree  of  self-command  is  able  to  resist.  And  if 
we  were  only  satisfied,  that  these  motives  atre  perfectly  irres- 
istible, we  would  not  ascribe  to  him  any  guilt  at  all."* — This 
is  undoubtedly  the  true  philosophy  in  this  matter. 

§.   193.   Historicdlillustrationsof  the  subject. 

And  here,  with  the  permission  of  the  reader,  we  will  in- 
troduce a  piece  of  literary  history,  which  we  find  in  D'lsra- 
eli,  who,  in  his  attempts  to  interest  the  curiosity  and  to  give 
pleasure,  has  in  various  passages  thrown  much  light  upon 
the  human  mind.  In  the  reign  of  Charles  First  of  England, 
a  man  by  the  name  of  Felton,  the  assassinator  of  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  was  menaced  with  torture  for  the  purpose 
and  with  the  expectation  of  extracting  from  him  the  names 
of  his  accomplices.  The  communication,  that  it  was  the 
king's  pleasure,  that  he  should  be  put  to  the  torture,  was 
made  to  him  by  Lord  Dorset,  who  accordingly  gave  him  no- 
tice to  prepare  for  the  rack.  Felton,  after  solemnly  affirming 
that  his  purpose  to  commit  the  crime  was  not  known  to  any 
man  living,  said;  "  but  if  it  be  his  majesty's  pleasure,  I  am 
ready  to  suffer  whatever  his  majesty  will  have  inflicted  upon 
roe.  Yet  this  I  must  tell  you  by  the.  way,  that  if  I  be  put  upon 
Vie  rack  1  ^vill  accuse  you,mij  Lord  Dorset,and  none  but  yourself. ^^"^ 

*Philosophy  of  the  Moral  and  Active  Powers,  Appendix  I.  §.  3. 
t  D'  Israeli's  Curiosities  of  Literature,  VoL  IIL 
37 


290  ENTHRALMENT    OE 

Here  is  a  text  in  ethical  casuistry,  affording  abundant  food 
for  meditation.  Felton  foresaw,  that  it  would  probably 
be  impossible  for  him  to  endure  the  suffering  which  would 
be  inflicted  ;  that  he  would  be  under  a  mental  necessity 
of  accusing  somebody;  and  he  considered  it  of  but  little 
consequence  whom  he  should  name  under  such  circumstan- 
ces, inasmuch  as  it  could  not  rightfully  be  regarded  either 
as  a  proof  of  falsehood  in  himself  or  of  guilt  in  others. 
And  was  he  not  essentially  right?  Can  a  man  be  consider- 
ed as  justly  accountable  for  what  is  extracted  from  him  under 
the  pressure  of  the  intense  sufferings  of  the  torture. 

In  Fox's  well  known  History  of  Christian  Martyrdoms, 
a  book  where  fiendish  cruelty  is  arrayed  side  by  side  with 
transcendant  virtue,  there  is  an  account  of  a  Portuguese 
young  lady  resident  in  the  city  of  Lisbon,  who  was  taken 
up  by  the  inquisitors  and  ordered  to  be  put  to  the  rack.  Un- 
able to  endure  the  torments  that  were  inflicted,  she  confes- 
sed the  charges  brought  against  her.  *'  The  cords  were  then 
slackened,  says  the  historian,  and  she  was  reconducted  to 
her  cell,  where  she  remained  till  she  had  recovered  the  use 
of  her  limbs ;  she  was  then  brought  again  before  the  tribu- 
nal, and  ordered  to  ratify  her  confession.  This  she  abso- 
lutely refused  to  do,  telling  them  that  what  she  had  said  was 
forced  from  her  by  the  excessive  pain  she  underwent.  The 
inquisitors,  incensed  at  this  reply,  ordered  her  again  to  be 
put  to  the  rack,  when  the  weakness  of  nature  once  more  pre- 
railed,  and  she  repeated  her  former  confession.  She  was 
immediately  remanded  to  her  cell:  and  being  a  third  time 
brought  before  the  inquisitors,  they  ordered  her  to  sign  her 
first  and  second  confessions.  She  answered  as  before,  but 
added,  "  I  have  twice  given  way  to  the  frailty  of  the  flesh, 
and  perhaps  may,  while  on  the  rack,  be  weak  enough  to  do 
so  again;  but  depend  upon  it,  if  you  torture  me  a  hundred 


SLAVERY    OF    THE    WILL.  291 

times,  as  soon  as  I  am  released  from  the   rack   I   shall  deny 
what  was  extorted  from  me  by  pain."* 

Such  illustrations  and  facts  show  clearly  and  decisively, 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  mental  enthralment ;  that  it  is 
not  a  mere  fiction,  but  exists  as  truly  and  undeniably  as  en- 
thralment of  the  body.  And  such  being  the  fact,  it  becomes 
an  important  subject  both  of  philosophical  and  ethical  in- 
quiry. 

§.    194.    The  will  enthralled  by  the  indulgence  of  the  appetites. 

With  these  general  explanations  before  us  on  the  nature 
of  Mental  Slavery,  and  in  particular  of  the  slavery  of  the 
will,  we  are  the  better  prepared  to  contemplate  the  subject 

by  going  more  into  particulars. We  have  instances  of  the 

prostration  and  enslavement  of  the  will,  unhappily  too  often 
witnessed,  in  the  undue  indulgence  of  the  appetites.  Look 
at  the  man,  who  habitually  indulges  himself  in  the  use  of  ar- 
dent spirits.  Every  time  he  carries  the  intoxicating  potion 
to  his  lips,  the  sensation  of  taste,  in  accordance  with  the 
law  of  our  nature  that  the  various  states  of  the  mind  become 
more  prompt  and  vigorous  in  their  exercise  by  repetition, 
acquires  an  increased  degree  of  pleasantness.  At  the  same 
time,  the  feeling  of  uneasiness,  when  the  sensation  is  not 
indulged  by  drinking,  is  increased  in  a  corresponding  de- 
gree ;  and  of  course  the  desircj  which  is  necessarily  atten- 
dant upon  the  uneasy  feeling,  becomes  in  like  manner  more 
and  more  importunate  and  imperative.  During  all  this  time 
the  internal  harmony  of  the  mind  is  interrupted.  The  other 
parts  of  the  mind  revolt,  if  we  may  so  speak,  against  the 
usurpations  of  this  unholy  and  destructive  desire.  The  rea- 
son points  out  tlie  evil  consequences  ;  the  natural  de- 
sire of  esteem  throws  itself  in  front  of  the  enemy;  the 
conscience  remonstrates  and  calls  aloud;  the  will  sum- 
♦  Unirersal  History  of  Christian  Martyrdom,  Bk.  V,  §  2d. 


ENXHRALMENT    OR 

mons  up  its  strength  and  makes  a  serious  resistance.  But 
the  desire,  growing  daily  stronger  and  stronger,  gains 
the  victory  over  one  opponent  after  another  ;  it  tramples 
on  the  innate  regard  for  the  good  opinion  of  others;  it 
stops  the  hearing  and  puts  out  the  eyes  of  conscience  ;  it 
pays  no  regard  to  the  admonitions  of  reason  ;  like  a  strong 
man  armed,  it  violently  seizes  the  will,  binds  it  hand  and 
foot,  and  hurls  it  into  the  dust.  What  slavery  can  be  more 
dreadful  than  this?  The  victim  of  this  tremendous  usurpa- 
pation,  which  he  has  fostered  and  brought  about  by  his  own 
wicked  indulgences,  is  driven  about  in  various  directions, 
like  the  men  of  Scripture  who  were  possessed  with  devils; 
and  at  J  last  forced  over  the  precipice  with  his  eyes  open,  he 
plunges  down  into  the  bottomless  depths. 

§.   195.   Enthralment  of  the  will  occasioned  by  predominant 
and  overruling  propensities. 

We  may  apply  these  views  to  other  active  principles  of  a 
higher  order  than  the  appetites,  such  as  the  propensities  and 
passions  or  affections.  It  is  well  understood,  that  our  pro- 
pensities and  passions  of  whatever  kind,  as  well  as  the  ap- 
petites, grow  stronger  and.  stronger  by  repetition.  And 
there  are  n,ot  unfrequently  cases,  where  they  have  become 
so  intense  after  years  of  such  repetition,  as  to  control,  or,  in 
other  words,  enthral  the  voluntary  power  almost  entirely. 
And  we  accordingly  proceed  to  remark,  that  one  of  the  most 
common  and  lamentable  forms,  in  which  mental  slavery  ex- 
ists, is  the  desire  of  wealth.  We  sometime^  find  men  so  en- 
tirely absorbed  in  this  pursuit  as  to  annihilate  them,  as  it 
were,  to  every  thing  else.  It  so  completely  occupies  every 
thought  and  feeling  as  to  exclude  all  other  objects,  and  to 
render  them  mentally  debased  and  subjugated  to  the  lowest 
degree.  There  have  been  men  of  great  wealch,  who  were 
so  entirely  under  the  influence  of  avarice,  that  they  could 


SLAVERY    OF    THE    WILL.  293 

not  be  persuaded  to  expend  enough  for  the  common  comforts 
of  life,  and  who  would  even  gather  up  the  cast  off  clothes 
and  sticks  and  nails,  that  are  found  in  the  street,  to  add 
something,  even  the  merest  trifle,  to  their  heaps  of  treasure. 
We  have  some  account  of  the  characteristics  of  the  insane 
AuBi  FAMES,  as  he  terms  it,  in  the  medical  writings  of  Dr. 
Good,  an  acute  and  laborious  observer  of  nature,  both  in  her 

material  and  immaterial  forms. "  The  passion  of  Avarice 

has  not  a  stirring  property  of  any  kind  belonging  to  it,  but 
benumbs  and  chills  every  energy  of  the  body  as  well  as  of 
the  soul,  like  the  stream  of  Lethe:  even  the  imagination  is 
rendered  cold  and  stagnant,  and  the  only  passions  with 
which  it  forms  a  confederacy,  are  the  miserable  train  of 
gloomy  fear,  suspicion,  and  anxiety.  The  body  grows  thin 
in  the  midst  of  wealth,the  limbs  totter  though  surrounded  by 
cordials,and  the  man  voluntarily  starves  himself  in  the  grana- 
ry of  plenty,  not  from  the  want  of  appetite,  but  from,  a  dread 
of  giving  way  to  it.  The  individual,  who  is  in  such  a  state 
of  mind,  must  be  estranged  upon  this  point,  howmuchsoever 
he  may  be  at  home  upon  others.  Yet  these  are  cases  that  are 
daily  occurring,  and  have  been  in  all  ages:  though  perhaps 
one  of  the  most  curious  is  that  related  by  Yalerius  Maximus 
of  a  miser,  who  took  advantage  of  a  famine  to  sell  a  mouse 
for  two  hundred  pence,  and  then  famished  himself  with  the 
money  in  his  pocket  And  hence  the  madness  of  the  cove- 
tous man  has  been  the  subject  of  sarcasm  and  ridicule  by 
moralists  anddramatic  writers  of  every  period,  of  which  we 
have  sufficient  examples  in  the  writings  of  Aristophanes, 
Lucian,  and  Moliere."* 

§.  196.    Thz  will  enthralled  by  inordinate   ambition. 

The  love  of  power,  or  ambition  in  any  of  its  forms,  if  it 
gain  an  uncontrolled  ascendency,  will  be  found  to  cause  such 

*  Good's  Study  of  Medicine,  Vol.  IV,  p.  132.  Cooper's  Ed. 


i 


294  ENTHRALMENT    OR 

a  degree  of  pressure  upon  the  domains  of  the  will,  as  great- 
ly to  perplex  and  even  enthral  its  action.  It  will  not  avail 
the  individual,  who  is  the  subject  of  this  inordinate  ambition, 
that  he  is  not  wanting  in  energy  of  character  ;  that  he  is  in 
ordinary  cases  a  man  of  great  promptness  and  decision. 
There  is  no  efficiency  or  energy  of  the  will  so  great,  either 
originally  or  by  culture,  as  not  to  be  perplexed,  weakened, 
and  in  some  of  the  circumstances  of  its  action  entirely  over- 
thrown by  the  inordinate  increase  of  this  passion.  And  we 
have  reason  to  think,  that  we  can  make  this  position  good, 
(saying  nothing  of  the  proofs  which  are  almost  daily  and 
hourly  presenting  themselves  to  our  notice,)  by  a  remarka- 
ble instance.  If  any  one  will  take  the  trouble  to  examine 
carefully  and  to  estimate  the  life  of  the  emperor  Napoleon, 
he  will  be  satisfied,  that  there  is  nothing  more  worthy  of  no- 
tice in  the  character  of  that  remarkable  man,  than  his  ener- 
gy, his  decision,  his  perfect  control  of  all  his  powers.  If  we 
may  judge  with  tolerable  precision  of  a  man's  control  over 
himself  by  his  control  over  others,  (which  is  at  least  one  of 
the  elements  of  a  correct  judgment  in  this  matter,)  we  should 
certainly  say,  that  but  few  men  ever  possessed  greater  self- 
command,  both  in  respect  to  the  understanding  and  the  pas- 
sions. The  action  of  his  mind,  both  in  planning  what  was 
to  be  done  and  in  carrying  it  into  execution,  was  always 
energetic  in  the  highest  degree,  which  can  never  be  said  of 
one  whose  will  is  weak.  The  movement  of  his  volition,  like 
some  electric  element  of  nature,  instantaneously  penetrated 
in  all  directions  ;  and  all  persons,  who  were  in  communica- 
tion with  him,  instinctively  felt  their  own  minds  tremble  and 
quail  before  it.  But  it  cannot  be  too  often  remembered  and 
repeated,  that  the  will,  like  the  other  mental  capabilities,  is  a 
price  put  into  our  hands  to  be  employed  by  us  in  accordance 
with  its  nature;  and  however  great  its  natural  or  acquired 
energy, that  encroachments  cannot  be  made  upon  it  from  any 


SLAVERY    OF    THE    WILL.       •  295 

other  source  without  great  danger.  Unfortunately  the  va- 
rious situations,  in  which  the  emperor  of  the  French  was 
placedjall  tended  to  foster  the  love  of  power  and  domination. 
The  acquisition  of  supreme  dominion  over  the  nations  was 
the  burden  of  his  meditations,  the  constant  object  of  his  de- 
sires.' In  the  end,  the  lust  of  power  became  so  predominant, 
that,  in  all  matters  where  it  was  concerned,  there  no  longer 
remained  any  authority,  any  effective  power  of  the  mind, 
that  seemed  to  be  capable  of  checking  and  controlling  it. 
That  strong  and  impetuous  will,  which  had  subdued  all  oth- 
ers before  it,was  insiduously  approached  by  this  enemy  from 
beneath,  and  before  the  danger  was  fully  perceived,  was  ta- 
ken captive  and  bound  with  cords  of  iron.  Napoleon  him- 
self was  conscious  of  his  situation,  and  feeling  within  him 
the  demonstrations  of  this  incontroUable  impulse,  usurping" 
an  authority  to  which  nature  never  entitled  it,  and  driving 
him  hither  and  thither  in  a  mad  and  measureless  career,  h^ 
began  to  talk  about  his  horoscope,  his  star  invisible  to  oth- 
ers, unrlterable  fate,  and  destiny.  This  is  the  common  lan- 
guage of  persons,  who  have  lost  the  true  balance  of  the 
mind,  and  have  permitted  unauthorized  passions  to  gain  the 
ascendency. 

§.   197.   The  will  enslaved  by  the  indulgence  of  the  passions. 

One  of  the  most  common  instances  of  an  enslaved  will  is 
that  of  persons,  who  have  long  indulged  in  angry  and  violent 
passions.  It  is  said  of  Frederic  William  of  Prussia,  the  fa- 
ther of  Frederic  the  Great,  that  he  was  "of  a  temper  so  vio- 
lent and  ungovernable,  that  his  passions  almost  amounted  to 
madness."*  And  happy  would  it  be,  if  such  instances  were 
found  only  here  and  there  on  the  pages  of  history.  But  it 
is  a  melancholy  fact,  as  every  careful  observer  of  human  na- 
ture knows,  that  there  is  scarcely  a  neighbourhood  without 

*  Lord  Dover's  Life  of  Frederic  Second,  Chap.  I. 


29P  •  ENTHRALMENT    OR 

them.  These  passions,  which  are  so  ungovernable  at  last, 
are  perhaps  feehle  in  the  beginning;  and  the  unhappy  sub- 
jects of  them  may  not  be  fully  aware  at  first  of  what  will  as- 
suredly take  place  in  the  latter  end.  But  for  successive 
years  they  are  repeated  and  indulged;  and  each  returning 
year  and  month  and  day  adds  to  their  intensity.  So  that 
the  man  in  this  situation,  (to  use  an  expression  happily  ap- 
plied by  a  Latin  writer  to  Alexander  in  one  of  his  fits  of 
rage,)  becomes  in  respect  to  any  control  over  them,  impotens 
animi.  He  is  a  victim,  sealed  to  destruction  by  his  own 
hand.  When  the  occasion  of  the  passion  occurs,  (and  in  the 
case  of  the  persons  whom  we  now  have  in  view  occasions  are 
almost  constantly  occurring,)  the  feeble  will  trembles  and 
bows  before  it,  like  the  flexible  reed  in  a  tempest. 

§.  198.  Inordinate  intensity  of  the  domestic  affections. 

It  will  throw  some  light  upon  the  nature  of  the  enthral- 
ment  or  slavery  of  the  will,  if  we  consider  the  operations 
and  results  of  some  of  the  benevolent  affections,  when  such 
affections  exist  in  a  high  degree  of  intensity.  It  is  proper 
to  add,  however,  that  we  have  not  reference  to  temporary 
excitements,  to  sudden  ebullitions  and  gusts  of  feeling,  so 
much  as  to  a  fixed  and  permanent  intensity.  It  might  be 
naturally  expected,  that  a  sudden  overflowing  of  the  affec- 
tions would  jar  upon  the  harmony  and  interrupt  the  order  of 
the  mind's  action;  not  only  in  respect  to  the  will,  but  gen- 
erally. Such  cases  wahave  not  now  particularly  in  view; 
but  others  of  greater  permanency,  though  perhaps  sometimes 
of  less  violence. 

It  is  sometimes  the  case,  that  the  domestic  affections,  the 
love  of  pstrents  for  their  children,  or  of  children  for  their  pa- 
rents, or  that  complexity  of  deep  and  sacred  feeling,  which 
is  embraced  in  the.  remembrance  and  the  love  of  home,  so 
pervades  and  fills  the  mind,  as  greatly,  in  certain  situations, 


StAVERY    OF      THE    WILL.  297 

to  embarrass  the  action  of  the  will,  and  in  fact  to  subject  it 
to  a  gr'eater  or  less  degree  of  enthralment.  If  the  individual, 
in  whom  the  domestic  affections  exist  in  a  very  intense 
degree,  is  for  some  reason  separated  from  the  hills  and  woods 
of  his  childhood,  from  the  hearth  of  his  fathers,  from  the 
endearing  company  of  those  who  sustain  the  most  intimate 
relations,  how  greatly  is  his  heart  affected!  What  exquisite 
anguish  fills  his  breast!  Whatever  plans  he  forms,  whatev- 
er course  of  life  he  proposes  to  enter  upon,  he  finds  that  the 
lovely  and  cherished  image  of  the  past  constantly  rises  be- 
fore him,  and  by  its  contrast  with  the  present  renders  him 
wretched.  He  makes  various  efforts  to  free  himself  from 
the  pressure  of  this  mental  thi-aldom  ;  he  calls  up  all  the  re- 
sources of  his  intellect;  he  reasons  upon  the  perplexities  and 
miseries  of  his  situation,  but  all  in  vain.  The  fatal  passion, 
so  deeply  rooted  in  his  bosom,  constantly  besets  him;  it 
passes  before  and  obscures  the  intellectual  vision;  it  pros- 
trates and  scatters  to  the  wind  the  determinations,  even  the 
most  deliberate  and  sacred  resolves  of  the  voluntary  power. 
Neither  ihe  sunny  skies  and- the  blooming  fields  of  nature, 
nor  the  beautiful  works  of  art,  nor  the  woody  depths  and 
the  rugged  rocks  of  an  anchorite's  abode,  nor  the  wonders 
of  the  wide  ocean,  nor  tlis  massy  walls  of  a  prison,  can 
change  the  direction  of  his  thoughts,  aiid  expel  the  immuta- 
ble passion  from  his  breast.  If  we  may  believe  the  state- 
ments of  Rousseau  and  other  writers,  those  inhabitants  of 
the  retired  and  solitary  mountains  and  vales  of  Switzerland, 
who  have  been  employed  in  foreign  military  service,  have 
sometimes  sickened  and  died,  under  the  influence  of  this 
strong  and  incontroUable  love  of  country  and  home. 

•*  The  intrepid  Swiss,  that  guards  a  foreign  shore, 
"  Condemned  to  climb  his  mountain  cHfFs  no  more, 
*•  If  chance  he  hears  the  song  so  sweetly  wild, 

36. 


298  ENTHRALEENT    OR 

*'  Which  on  thpse  cliffs  his  infant  hours  beguiled, 

*'  Melts  at  the  long-lost  scenes  that  round  him  rise,  ••   ' 

"  And  sinks,  a  martjT  to  repentant  sighs. 

§.   199.   Of  the  slavery  oj  the  will  in  connection  with  moral  ac- 
countability. 

In  concluding  the  remarks  of  this  chapter  it  is  proper 
briefly  to  notice  an  interesting  inquiry  which  naturally 
comes  up   here.     The  inquiry  we  refer  to  is,  What   bearing 

have  these  views  on  moral  accountability  ? And  we  may 

undoubtedly  answer  it  by  saying  in  general  terms,  that  our 
moral  accountability  remains,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  so 
long  as  the  due  proportion  or  balance  between  the  various 
powers  of  the  mind  is  not  whollij  destroyed.  If  we  permit 
the  undue  aud  unholy  exercise  of  any  appetite  or  passion,  we 
are  indeed  enslaved,  (in  the  sense  in  which  slavery  or  en- 
thralment  is  predicable  of  the  mind,)  by  such  appetite  or 
passion;  but  we  are  not  therefore  removed  beyond  the  reach 
of  accountability  and  guilt ;  but  on  the  contrary  are  both 
accountable  and  highly  criminal,  so  Jong  as  there  remain  in 
our  minds,  either  in  the  will  or  any  where  else,  any  powers 
of  right  judgment  and  resistance.  When  such  powers  of 
judgment  and  resistance  no  longer  remain,  then  our  actions, 
of  whatever  kind  they  may  be,  are  neither  criminal  nor  mer- 
itorious ;  although  we  may  be  criminal  for  bringing  ourselves 
into  this  situation.  Mental  slavery,  when  it  becomes  so  in- 
tense as  actually  to  disorganize  the  mind  and  to  pass  over 
into  the  regions  of  insanity  destroys  accountability,  but  not 
before.  So  long  as  it  does  not  pass  within  the  limits  of 
mental  alienation  and  become  merged  in  insanity,  it  is.  so 
far  from  rendering  a  person  guiltless,  that  it  might  not  be 
difficult  to  show  that  guilt  or  sin  is  identical  with  it.  In 
other  words,  that  there  is  no  sin,  where  there  is  no  slavery. 


SLAVERY    OF    THE    WILL.  299 

The   Scriptures  themselves  seem  to  recognize  some  such 
view.     "Jesus   answered  them,  Verily,  verily  I   say  unto 

you,  Whosoever  committeth  sin,  is  the  servant  of  sin." 

"  But  I  see  another  law  in  my  members,  warring  against  the 
law  of  my  mind,  and  bringing  me  into  captivity  to  the  law  of 
sin." — "  Because  the  creature  itself  also  shall  be  delivered 
from  the  bondage  of  corruption,  into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the 
children  of  God." — "  For  when  ye  were  servants  of  sin,  ye 
were  free  from  righteousness." — "  While  they  promise  them 
liberty,  they  themselves  are  the  servants  of  corruption  ;  for  of 
whom  a  man  is  overcome,  of  the  same  is  he  brought  in  bon- 
dage."—John  8,  34.  Rom.  6,  20.  7, 23.  8,  21,  2d  Peter  2,  19. 
It  will  be  kept  in  mind,  however,  that  we  do  not  intend 
to  apply  these  remarks  to  cases,  where  the  will  is  brought 
into  subjection  by  means  extraneous  to  the  person  himself, 
and  operating  upon  him  without  his  concurrence  or  consent, 
as  in  the  case  just  now  referred  to  of  extreme  suffering  by 
torture.  In  all  such  cases  it  is  undeniable,  that-  moral  ac- 
countability, on  the.part  of  the  person  who  is  subjected  to 
such  suffering,  is  either  greatly  diminished,  or  ceased  to 
exist  altogether.  Under  the  pressure  of  a  suffering  so  in- 
tense as  wholly  to  prostrate  the  action  of  the  voluntary 
power,  he  is  no  more  accountable  for  what  he  does,  than  he 
would  be  for  what  he  is  compelled  to  do  by  actual  bodily 
constraint. 


CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 


ALIENATION  OR  INSANITY  OF  THE  WILL, 


§,  jSOO.  Insanity  predicable  of  all  the  powers  of  the  mind  f 

The  view ,  which  has  been  given  of  the  freedom  of  the 
will,  including  those  things,  which  are  more  or  less  at  vari- 
ance with  a  state  of  perfect  freedom,  would  certainly  not  be 
complete,  and  might  perhaps  be  liable  to  misapprehension, 
if  we  were  not  to  add  something  on  the  nature  of  Alienation 
or  Insanity  of  the  will.  There  are  some  grounds  for  the 
remark,  (and  perhaps  we  may  go  so  far  as  to  make  the 
assertion  without  any  qualification  whatever,)  that  there  may 
be  an  Alienation  or  Insanity  of  every  part  and  power  of  the 
mind.  The  power  of  external  perception,  the  memory, 
the  judgment,  the  reasoning  power,  the  power  of  asso- 
ciation, the  imagination,  the  passions,  may  each  of  them 
separately,  as  well  as  in  their  combination  with  each  other, 
puffer  so  great  a  degree  of  disorder  and  derangement  as  to 
constitute  what  may  be  termed  insanity. — And  this  remark 
leads  to  another,  which  may  properly  be  made  in  this  con- 
nection, viz,  that  the  whole  subject  of  insanity,  as  there  is 
reason  to  believe,  has  been  copipressed  within  too  narrow 


ALIENATION    OF    THE    WILL.  301 

limits.  We  are  sustained  by  the  opinion  of  a  valuable  wri- 
ter on  this  subjectjwhen  we  say,  that  this  department  of  phi- 
losophical inquiry  has  suffered  more  than  most  others,  from 
arbitrary  or  too  restricted  definitions.*  When  we  are  told, 
on  the  authority  of  CuUen,  that  insanity  is  '^  an  impairment 
of  the  judging  faculty,"  or  even  on  the  authority  of  Locke 
that  "  it  is  putting  wrong  ideas  together  and  so  making 
wrong  propositions,  but  arguing  and  reasoning  right  from 
them,"  we  have,  it  is  true,the  announcement  of  some  cases  of 
mental  alienation,  but  obviously  to  the  exclusion  of  a  multi- 
tude of  others.  Insanity,  in  its  application  to  the  mind,  ex- 
presses, in  its  literal  import,  the  simple  fact  of  disorder,  alien- 
ation, or  uns9undness  of  mind  ;  and  its  true  limits  are  co-ex- 
tensive with  the  opposite,  viz,  with  a  just,  orderly,  sound  or 
sane  state  of  the  mind.  We  do  not  mean  to  say,  that  every 
variation  of  any  and  every  mental  power  from  a  just  and 
sane  state,  however  slight  it  may  be,  constitutes  insanity  ; 
but  wish  to  be  understood  as  merely  saying,  that  every  such 
variation,. when  it  is  carried  to  a  certain  extent  or  degree, 
constitutes  it.  And  consequently  that  the  limits  or  sphere 
of  insanity  is  no  less  extensive  than  that  of  the  mind  itself. 
And  hence  there  may  be,  and  is,  a  reasonableness  'and  pro- 
priety in  speaking  of  the  alienation  or  insanity  of  the  will. 

§.  201.   Of  alienation  or  insanity  of  the  wilL 

There  is  a  remark  of  M.  Pinel  in  his  Treatise  on  Insani- 
ty to  this  effect,  that  the  active  faculties,  (under  which  phrase 
he  includes  those  mental  states,  which  are  more  immediately 
connected  with  action,  such  as  the  emotions,  desires,  and 
passions,)  are  as  much  subject  to  serious  injuries  and  disor- 
ders, as  the  intellectual  faculties;  and  that,  although  a  disor- 
dered state  of  the  active  faculties  is   sometimes  associated 

• 

*  Dr.  ConoUy, -^Inquiry  concerning  the  Indications  of  Insanity. 


802  ALIENATION  OB 

with  a  like  disordered  condition  of  the  intellect,  yet  this  is 
not  always  the  case,  and  the  former  sometimes  exists  with- 
out the  latter.  He  subsequently  says  expressly  that  the 
functions  of  the  will,  (a  power  which  he  undoubtedly  embra- 
ces also  under  the  general  head  of  the  Active  faculties,)  are 
absolutely  distinct  from  those  of  the  UNDERSTANDiNG,and  that 
their  seat,  causes,  and  reciprocal  dependencies  are  essential- 
ly different.  This  is  said  in  a  portion  of  his  Work,  the  ti- 
tle of  which  is,  the  functions  of  the  will  exclusively  diseased;  and 
in  the  course  of  which  he  gives  an  instance  of  alienation  of 
the  WILL.  The  insanity  of  the  individual,  of  whom  he  gives 
an  account,  was  periodical;  the  paroxysms  generally  return- 
ing after  an  interval  of  several  months.  The  ^hape  of  his 
insanity  was  that  of  an  irresistible  propensity  to  commit 
acts  of  barbarity  and  bloodshed.  There  was  no  disorder 
of  the  intellect;  the  memory,  judgment,  and  imagination 
were  perfectly  sound;  but  his  will,  upon  which  men  in  ordi- 
nary cases  rely  for  a  resistance  ta  inordinate  passions,  was 
entirely  powerless,  at  least  as  compared  with  the  intensity 
of  his  passion,  and  not  even  those  persons,  to  whom  at  other 
times  he  appeared  most  attached,  were  safe  in  his  presence. 
It  is  proper  to  remark  here,  that  there  seems  to  be,  in  the 
original  constitution  of  the  mind,  a  sort  of  correspondence 
or  proportion  between  the  desires  and  passions  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  will  on  the  other.  That  is  to  say  ;  the  pow- 
er which  the  will  possesses,  whether  more  or  less,  bears  a 
species  of  relation  and  proportion  to  the  power  of  the  de- 
sires and  passions.  Hence  it  happens,  whatever  may  be 
the  original  power  of  the  will,  that  an  increase  of  the  desires 
and  passions  to  a  certain  degree  of  intensity  is  wholly  incon- 
sistent with  a  due  exercise  of  its  authority;  it  is  violently 
taken  captive,  and  is  virtually  and  to  all  useful  purposes 
destitute  of  ability.  A  case  of  this  kind,  (and  such  is  the 
instance  narrated  in  the  Treatise  of  M,  Pinel,)  is  one,  not  of 


INSANITY    OF   THE   WILL.  303 

mere  enthralment  or  slavery,  but  truly  a  case  of  insanity. 
In  consequence  of  the  circumstance,  that  this  alienation  of 
the  will  is  owing  to  a  peculiar  state  of  the  desires  and  pas- 
sions, it  is  sometimes  denominated  alienation  or  insanity  of 
the  passions. 

§.  202.  Another  instance  of  this  species  of  insanity. 

Some  other  instances,  which  might  be  adduced  as  illus- 
trating this  form  of  insanity  of  the  will,  are  given  by  M.  Pi- 
nel,  one  of  which  we  will  repeat  in  his  own  words,  as  it  fur- 
nishes an  importaat  practical  lesson  to  those,  who  have  the 
training  of  children  and  youth. — **An  only  son  of  a  weak 
and  indulgent  mother  was  encouraged  in  the  gratification  of 
every  caprice  and  passion,  of  whiclj  an  untutored  and  vio- 
lent temper  was  susceptible.  The  impetuosity  of  his  dis- 
position increased  with  his  years.  The  money,  with  which 
he  was  lavishly  supplied,  removed  every  obstacle  to  his  wild 

;  desires.     Every  instance  of  opposition  or  resistance  roused 

■;  him  to  acts  of  fury.  He  assaulted  his  adversary  with  the 
audacity  of  a  savage;  sought  to  reign  by  force  ;  and  was 

'  perpetually  embroiled  in  disputes  and  quarrels." "This 

wayward  youth,  however,  when  unmoved  by  passfons,  pos- 
sessed a  perfectly  sound  judgment.  When  he  came  of  age, 
he  succeeded  to  the  possession  of  an  extensive  domain.  He 
proved  himself  fully  competent  to  the  nianagement  of  his 
estate,  as  well  as  to  the  discharge  of  his  relative  duties  ; 
and  he  even  distinguished  hiihself  by  acts  of  beneficence 

»  and  compassion.  Wounds,  law-suits,  and,pecuniary  compen- 
sations were  generally  the  consequences  of  his  unhappy 
propensity  to  quarrel.  But  an  act  of  notoriety  put  ian  end  to 
his  career  of  violence.  Enraged  at  a  woman,  who  had  used 
offensive  language  to  him,  he  precipitated  her  into  a  well. 
Prosecution  was  commenced  against  him,  and  on  the  depo- 
sition of  a  great  many  witnesses,  who  gave  evidence  to  his 


804  ALIENATION    OR 

furious  deportment,  he  was  condemned  to  perpetual  confine- 
ment at  [the  Insane  Hospital  of]  Bicetre." 

§.  203.  Of  insanity  of  the  will  in  connection  with  cases  oj  casual 
association. 

Alienation  or  insanity  of  the  will  exists  in  many  cases  of 
strong  casual  association.  Some  persons,  in  consequence  of 
such  associations,  are  utterly  unable  to  bear  the  sight  of 
certain  objects,  however  harmless  they  may  be.  Some 
instances  were  mentioned  in  the  eighth  chapter  of  Part 
Second,  the  particulars  of  which  it  is  unnecessary  here  to 
repeat,  and  which  will  be  found  on  referring  to  them  fully 
to  illustrate  the  subject.  Peter  the  Great,  in  whom  energy 
of  the  will  was  a  conspicuous  characteristic,  was  utterly  una- 
able  to  bear  the  sight  of  a  mere  insect ;  James  I  of  England 
could  not  look  on  a  sword  unsheathed  ;  La  Rochejaquelin, 
who  on  the  field  of  battle  bore  the  palm  of  chivalrous  brave- 
ry from  all  others,  still  had  not  courage  enough  to  encoun- 
ter a  harmless  squirrel.  In  these  and  a  multitude  *of  other 
cases  like  them,  we  have  instances  of  men,  many  of  whom 
in' general  possessed  great  energy  and  decision,  but  who 
displayed  in  certain  conjunctures,  however  trivial  they 
might  be,  the  greatest  imbecility.  And  it  does  not  appear, 
how  we  can  give  an  explanation  of  them,  except  on  the 
ground,  that  the  disorder  of  mind,  which  is  primarily  seated 
in  the  power  of  association,  ultimately  diffused  itself  into 
the  region  of  the  will,  and  completely  annihilated  its  energy 
within  the  sphere  embraced  by  the  particular  association. 

Perhaps  we  have  in  the  personal  history  of  Dr  Johnson 
an  instance  of  alienation  of  will,  based  on  a  disordered  casual 
association.  "  He  had  another  particularity,  says  his  biog- 
rapher, of  which  none  of  his  friends  ever  ventured  to  ask  an 

*  See  Good's  Study  of  Medicine,  Neurotica,  Ord*  IV,  Gen,  III. 


INSANITY    OF   THE   WILL.  805 

explanation.  It  appeared  to  me  some  superstitious  habit, 
which  he  had  contracted  early,  and  from  which  he  had  never 
called  upon  his  reason  to  disentangle  him.  This  was  his 
anxious  care  to  go  out  or  in  at  a  door  or  passage,  by  a  cer- 
tain, number  of  steps  from  a  certain  point,  or  at  least  so  that  as 
either  his  right  or  left  foot,  (I  am  not  certain  which,)  should 
constantly  make  the  first  movement  when  he  came  close  to 
the  door  or  passage.  Thus  I  conjecture:  for  I  have,  upon 
innumerable  occasions,  observed  him  suddenly  stop,and  then 
seem  to  count  his  steps  with  a  deep  earnestness;  and  when 
he  had  neglected  or  gone  wrong  in  this  sort  of  magical 
movement,  I  have  seen  him  go  back  again,  put  himself  into  a 
proper  posture  to  begin  the  ceremony,  and  having  gone 
through  it,  break  from  his  abstraction,  walk  briskly  on,  and 

join  his   company." With  such  clearness   of  perception, 

with  such  vast  powers  of  understanding  as  Dr.  Johnson  pos- 
sessed, we  cannot  suppose,  that  he  would  ever  have  submit- 
ted to  the  utter  folly  of  such  a  practice,  if  his  will  had  not 
entirely  lost  its  power  in  that  particular,  in  consequence  of 
some  early  association,  which  had  fastened  itself  in  the  mind 
too  deeply  for  eradication. 

§.  204 •  Of  alienation  of  the  will  as  connected  with  a  disordered 
state  or  alienation  oj  belief. 

Although  each  of  the  mental  powers  may  become  disor- 
dered and  alienated  in  itself,  yet  this  alienation  depends  not 
unfrequently  upon  the  connection  which  such  power  has 
with  others.  And  this  is  particularly  true,  (perhaps  more  so 
than  in  respect  to  any  other  faculty  of  the  mind,)  in  relation 
to  the  will.  It  appeared  in  some  remarks  in  the  Part  First 
of  this  treatise,  that  there  is  a  close  connection  between  vo- 
lition and  that  state  of  the   mind,  which    is  termed  Belief; 

that  the  strength  of  the  volition  will  become  diminished  more 
89 


i 


806  ALIENATION    OR 

and  more  in  conformity  with  the  diminution  of  belief ;  and 
that  by  the  original  constitution  of  the  mind  itself  there  ia 
not  even  a  possibility  of  putting  forth  the  exercise  of  voli- 
tion, vp^hen  there  is  no  belief  that  the  thing  to  which  it  re- 
lates is  in  our  power.  Hence  it  follows  as  a  general  truth, 
that  a  disordered  or  alienated  state  of  belief  will  be  follow- 
ed by  a  corresponding  alienation  of  the  will.  If  a  man,  in 
the  condition  of  insanity  of  belief,  truly  looks  upon  himself 
as  made  of  glass,  it  is  just  as  difficult  for  him  to  will  to  move 
himself  about  rapidly  and  to  throw  himself  suddenly  and  vio- 
lently in  contact  with  solid  and  hard  bodies,  as  it  is  for  a 
man  in  sane  mind  to  will  to  thrust  his  hand  or  foot  into  the 
fire  or  boiling  water,  which  with  many  persons  would  be 
found  to  be  an  utter  impossibility  His  will  is  in  such  cases 
enslaved,  (not  in  the  more  common  and  ordinary  form  of  en- 
thralment,  which  is  fully  consistent  with  moral  accountabili- 
ty,) but  to  the  degree  of  insanity.  We  will  suppose,  that  a 
man  in  the  state  of  insanity  of  belief  h?is  a  firm  and  unalter- 
able conviction,  as  much  so  as  of  his  own  existence,  that  he 
has  by  amputation  or  in  some  way  lost  an  arm  or  a  leg ;  and 
it  will  be  found,  just  so  long  as  he  remains  the  subject  of  this 
alienation  of  belief,  impossible  for  him  to  put  forth  a  single 
volition,  having  a  relation  to  the  action  of  those  parts  of  the 
body.  To  that  extent  the  power  of  willing  is  entirely  lost. 
If  his  physician  or  any  one  else  should  require  him  to  put 
forth  such  volition,  it  would  appear  to  him,  (and  necessarily 
so  from  the  constitution  of  the  mind  itself,)  not  only  impos- 
sible, but  as  supremely  ridiculous  as  for  a  man  of  sound 
mind  to  will  to  walk  upon  the  ocean  or  to  fly  in  the  air. 

§.  305.  Alienation  of  the  willin  connection  with  melancholy. 

Furthermore,  the  will  is  sometimes  alienated,  (that  is  to 
say,  ii  in  that  state  which  is  usually  indicated  by  the  term 
INSANITY,)  in  cases,  where  there  is  a  deeply  rooted  and  per- 


INSANITY    OF      THE    WILL.  307 

manent  melancholy.  The  mind  of  the  person  is  fixed  upon 
some  gloomy  subject ;  it  remains  the  object  of  contempla- 
tion day  after  day  and  hour  after  hour;  a  thick,  impenetrable 
cloud  seems  to  invest  every  prospect  whether  present  or  fu- 
ture. It  seems  to  the  spectator  that  there  is  nothing  waji- 
ting  but  a  mere  act  of  the  will,  a  resolution,  a  mere  decision, 
in  order  to  bring  the  person  out  of  this  state  of  gloomy  inac- 
tivity and  carry  him  once  more  into  the  discharge  of  the  du- 
ties of  life.  And  this  is  true,  if  the  will  could  be  made  to 
act.  But  the  gloom  spreads  itself  from  the  understanding  to 
the  heart,  and  from  the  heart  to  the  region  of  the  voluntary 
power;  and  the  will,  invested  on  every  side  by  the  dark-, 
ness  of  this  dense  and  impenetrable  atmosphere,  remains 
closed  up  and  fixed,  as  if  imbedded  in  a  mass  of  ice. 
When  the  gloom  is  deepened  to  a  certain  degree,  although 
the  power  of  the  will  is  not  entirely  gone,  it  is  impossible 
for  it  to  put  forth  any  effective  action.  The  English  poet 
Collins  is  an  instance  of  this  unhappy  state  of  mind.  "  He 
languished  some  years,  says  his  biograjJher,  under  that  'de- 
pression of  mind,  which  enchains  the  faculties  without  des- 
troying them,  and  leaves  reason  the  knowledge  of  right 
without  the  power  of  pv/rsuing  it.  These  clouds,  which  he  per- 
ceived gathering  upon  his  intellects,  he  endeavoured  to  dis- 
perse by  travel,  and  passed  into  France;  but  found  himself 
constrained  to  yield  to  his  maladj'-,  and  returned.  He  was 
for  some  time  confined  in  a  house  of  lunatics."*  Well  might 
this  genuine  poet  have  adopted  the  language,  afterwards  so 
feelingly  applied  to  himself  by  his  biographer, 

"Canst  thou  not  minister  to  a  mind  diseased  ? 
"Pluck  from  the  memory  a  rooted  sorrow  ? 

*  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  English  Poets,  Art.  Collins. 


303  ALIENATION  OR 

§.  206.  Of  alienation  of  the  will  termed  mcoNBTAT^Ti  A, 

There  is  another  form  of  alienation  of  the  will,  distinct 
from  those  which  have  been  mentioned,  but  perhaps  of  no 
lejs  frequent  occurrence.  It  is  noticed  more  or  less  by  wri- 
ters on  insanity;  and  is  classed  by  Dr.  Good  in  the  species 
of  MORjA  iMBEciLLis,  uudcr  the  name  of  inconstantia.  This 
mental  disease  is  often  connected  with  an  irregular  action  of 
the  power  of  association;  and  the  cases,  which  illustrate  it, 
might  many  times  be  arranged,  according  to  the  view  which 
is  taken  of  them,  either  as  instances  of  alienated  will  or 
♦alienated  association.  The  persons ,  who  are  subject  to  this 
form  of  insanity,  (for  when  it  exists  in  a  very  high  degree, 
this  state  of  mind  may  justly  be  regarded  as  one  of  insani- 
ty,) are  designated  by  various  epithets,  such  as  fickle, 
flighty,  lightheaded,  hair-brained.  The  thoughts  of  these 
persons  fly  from  one  subject  to  another  with  great  rapidity  ; 
their  bodies  are  almost  always  in  motion  ;  and  their  volubili- 
ty of  speech  is  excessive.  M.  Pinel  mentions  an  instance,  (a 
gentleman  who  had  been  educated  in  the  prejudices  of  the 
ancient  noblesse  of  France,)  which  illustrates  this  singular 
condition  of  mind.  '^  He  constantly  bustled  about  the 
house,  talking  incessantly,  shouting,  and  throwing  himself 
into  great  passions  for  the  most  trifling  causes.  He  teased 
his  domestics  by  the  most  frivolous  orders,  and  his  neigh- 
bours by  his  fooleries  and  extravagances,  of  which  he  retain- 
ed not  the  least  recollection  for  a  single  moment.  He  talk- 
ed with  the  greatest  volatility  of  the  court,  of  his  periwig, 
of  his  horses,  "of  his  gardens,  without  waiting  for  an  answer, 
or  giving  time  to  follow  his  incoherent  jargon." 

In  all  these  cases,  whatever  may  be  the  cause  of  it,  the 
will  has  obviously  lost  its  power  ;  it  has  ceased,  and  appa- 
yen|ly  witljout  the  possibility  of  doing  otherwise,  to  exer- 


INSANITY    OF    THE    WILL.  509 

cise  that  authority  over  the  other  powers  of  the  mind,  to 
which  it  is  entitled.  It  is  obviously  the  allotment  and  busi- 
ness of  the  will  to  stand  at  the  helm,  and  resolutely  and  firm- 
ly to  keep  tiie  vessel  on  her  course,  not  only  in  ordinary  oc- 
casions, but  in  those  seasons  of  agitation  and  trial,  when  the 
billows  heave  from  below  and  the  tempests  beat  from  above. 
But  when  it  is  under  the  influence  of  this  disease,  its  arm 
becomes  powerless;  the  helm  is  wrenched  from  its  grasp; 
and  the  whole  man  is  violently  driven  about,  in  each  contra- 
riety of  direction,  by  every  wind  of  heaven  and  every  surge 
of  the  ocean. 

§.257.   OJ  accountability  in  connection  with  alienation 
or  insanity  of  the  will. 

It  will  be  seen  from  what  has  been  said,  that  the  particu- 
lar form  or  aspect  of  insanity  of  the  will  is  very  various  ; 
sometimes  consisting  of  the  entire  or  almost  entire  abstrac- 
tion of  its  own  power  ;  sometimes  in  an  immoveable  fixed- 
ness,either  occasioned  by  its  own  imbecility  or  the  undue  pre- 
ponderance of  some  other  principle ;  sometimes  in  an  action, 
powerful  enough  perhaps,  but  urged  on  and  wholly  shut  up 
in  one  direction,  and  not  in  possession  of  an  adequate  degree 
of  liberty;  sometimes  in  a  fickleness  approaching  to  entire 
contingency,  occasioned  by  the  suspension  or  violation  of 
those  general  laws,  by  which  the  action  of  the  will  is  ordi- 
narily restrained  and  regulated. — In  all  cases  of  actual  in- 
sanity, under  whatever  aspect  or  form  it  may  appear,  the 
person,  who  is  the  subject  of  it,  is  free  from  moral  accounta- 
bility, to  the  degree  or  extent  in  which  the  insanity  exists  ; 
for  it  has  now  become  a  settled  principle  on  the  subject  of 
mental  alienation,  and  one  which  is  perfectly  well  under- 
stood, that  not  unfrequently  the  insanity  extends  to  a  par- 
ticular power  or  a  particular  subject,  and  that  beyond  that 


310  ALIENATION   OF    THE    WILL. 

particular  power  or  subject  the  ordinary  degree  of  percep- 
tion and  action  remains. 

But  the  question  here  presents  itself  to  us,  how  can  we 
ascertain  the  existence  of  insanity  ?  By  what  rUle  can  it  be 
discovered  or  known  to  exist  in  a  particular  case?  How 
can  the  line  of  demarcation  be  detected  between  that  pres- 
sure of  the  will,  known  as  enthralment  or  slavery,  which  is 
consistent  with  moral  accountability,  and  insanity  of  the  will 

which  wholly  destroys  it  ? On  this  subject  we  do  not  feel 

called  upon  to  lay  down  any  general  rule;  nor,  if  we  were, 
should  we  be  able  to  do  it.  The  Supreme  Being  alone  can 
tell  with  entire  certainty  when  the  limit  is  passed,' beyond 
which  moral  accountability  ceases  to  exist.  Men  can  do 
nothing  more  than  approximate  to  such  certainty  of  decision, 
determining  according  to  the  best  of  their  judgment  on  the 
circumstances  of  individual  cases. 


PART   FOURTH 


POWER  OF   THE   WILL. 


CHAPTER  FIRST. 


NATURE  OF  MENTAL  POWER. 


§.  208.   Of  the  distinction  between  liberty  and  power.     • 

We  now  enter  again  upon  a  distinct  series  of  subjects^, 
which  present  the  will  to  our  notice  in  a  new  aspect.  They 
are  subsequent  in  the  order  of  examination,  but  they  are  not 
wanting  either  in  importance  or  interest.  In  this  last  Part 
of  our  Work,  we  propose  to  examine  the  Power  of  the  will 
and  the  various  topics,  that  are  naturally  connected  with  it. 
— —But  in  making  the  power  of  the  will  a  distinct  subject 
of  examination,  it  is  proper  to  remark,  that  we  deviate  from 
the  view  of  many  writers,  and  some  of  them  of  no  mean 
rank,  who  seem  to  have  considered  the  power  of  the  will  and 
its  liberty  as  one  and  the  same  thing.  And  this  confusion 
of  things  which  are  entirely  distinct,  has  been  one  cause  of 
that  obscurity,  which  has  ever  rested  in  too  great  a  degree^ 
on  the  whole  subject. 

It  is  not  altogether   surprising  however,  that   an  eprour 

should  have   been  committed  here,  when  we  cottsi(Jer  how 

apt  we  are  to  confound  together  objects,  whai'^ver  grounds 

there  may  be  for  a  distinction  between  them;^'wbicb  are  of^ 
40  . 


314       NATURE  OF  MENTAL  POWER. 

ten  united  together  in  our  thoughts.  The  material  world  is 
so  constituted,  that  in  our  perceptions  of  extension  and  color 
we  find  them  necessarily  always  accompanying  each  other; 
so  that  after  a  time  we  find  it  very  difiicult  to  exclude  from 
our  notion  of  the  sensation  of  colour  the  idea  of  extension. 
And  it  is  undouhtedly  much  the  same  in  all  similar  cases  ; 
and  among  others  in  that  of  freedom  and  power,  which  also 
are  found  to  be  closely  associated  together.  It  is  obvious, 
that  there  is  no  freedom,  where  there  is  no  power;  it  seems 
to  be  undeniable,  that  in  the  nature  of  things  they  go  to- 
gether; and  they  are  therefore  so  closely  connected  in  our 
thoughts,  that  we  ultimately  find  it  difficult  to  make  the 
proper  distinction  between  them. 

§.  209.  Proof  of  the  distinction  between  liberty  and  power. 

We  presume  to  anticipate,  that,  after  the  reader  has  gone 
through  with  what  we  have  to  say  on  this  general  subject  of 
voluntary  power,  especially  if  he  will  take  the  pains  to  com- 
pare it  with  what  has  already  been  said  on  the  nature  of 
liberty,  he  will  not  be  disposed  to  take  exceptions  to  the 
distinction,  which  we  assert  to  exist  between  liberty  and 
POWER.  And  yet,  although  it  is  unnecessary,  in  this  stage 
of  our  remarks,  to  spend  much  time  on  this  particular  topic, 
there  is  a  propriety  in  briefly  introducing  a  few  circumstan- 
ces in  support  of  the  distinction  before  us. And  accor- 
dingly we  remark,  in  the  first  place,  that  there  are  sometimes 
diversities  or  different  degrees  in  the  amount  of  power,  even 
to  a  marked  and  decided  extent,  while  the  amount  of  freedom 
is  essentially  the  same,  which  could  not  well  be  the  case,  if 
liberty  and  power  were  identical.  Take  a  single  illustra- 
tion. There  is  as  much  freedom,  in  any  true  and  proper 
sense  of  the  term  freedom,  in  the  mind  of  a  child,  whose  in- 
tellect, just  beginning  to  open,  cannot  expand  itself  beyond 
the  limits  of  his  native  village,  as   in  that  of  a  philosopher, 


NATURE    OF    MENTAL    POWER.  515 

whose  thoughts  embrace  the  world,  and  even  systems  of 
worlds.  The  sphere  of  the  child's  mind  is  indeed  a  very- 
limited  one  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  philosopher;  but 
the  degree  of  freedom  enjoyed  by  it  is  essentially  the  same. 
But  while  there  is  undeniably  in  these  two  cases  an  equal 
or  nearly  equal  degree  of  mental  liberty,  within  the  respec- 
tive spheres  of  the  mind's  operations,  no  one  will  undertake 
to  say,  that  there  is  the  same  or  nearly  the  same  degree  of 
mental  power.  The  sphere  of  mental  action  is, unquestiona- 
bly different,  being  more  extended  in  the  one  case  than  the 
other  ;  the  power  or  energy  of  mental  action  also  is  differ- 
ent, not  slightly  so  but  in  the  higest  degree;  but  the  free- 
dom of  the  mind  in  these  two  cases,  which  are  so  different 
in  other  respects,  may  be  entirely  the  same. — If  there  should 
be  a  difference  in  the  amount  of  liberty  we  should  expect  it 
to  be  in  favor  of  the  child  or  youth,  rather  than  of  the  man; 
because,  at  that  early  period  of  life,  the  relative  position  of 
*the  mental  powers,  (although  those  powers  are  very  far  at 
any  period  from  having  escaped  the  derangement  resulting 
from  the  fallen  condition  of  the  human  race,)  is  comparative' 
ly  undisturbed.  While,  on  the  contrary,  we  too  often  find 
it  to  be  the  case,  that  advancement  in  age  is  attended  by  an 
increase  of  internal  disorder  exceedingly  at  variance  with 
that  regularity  and  harmony  of  mental  action,  which  is  the 
basis  of  the  highest  liberty. 

§.  210.    The  distinction  of  power  and  liberty  involved  in  the 

fact  of  our  being  able  to  form  the  abstract  ideas  of  power 

and  liberty. 

In  the  second  place,  our  consciousness,  (that  internal  re- 
flection which  we  are  able  to  bestow  upon  what  takes  place 
in  the  mind  itself,)  assures  us,  that  we  are  able  to  form  the 
abstract  idea  of  liberty,  and  also  that  we  are  able  to  form 
the  abstract  idea  of  power;    and  if  our  internal  mental  ex- 


316       NATURE  OF  MENTAL  POWER. 

perience  thus  assures  us  of  the  existence  of  the  two,  it  of 
course  assures  us  of  a  distinction  between  them.  Every 
simple  idea,as  it  is  an  unit  and  is  inseparable  into  parts,  must 
necessarily  have  a  character  of  its  own,  which  is  definite  and 
immutable.  And  if  we  are  capable,  therefore,  of  forming 
these  two  distinct  ideas  of  power  and  liberty,  (as  the  gener- 
al consciousness  on  the  subject  seems  clearly  to  testify,)  it 
will  necessarily  follow,  that  they  are  entirely  distinct  in 
their  nature;  and  although  they  may  be  closely  connected 
together  by  accidental  circumstances  or  in  any  other  way,  so 
much  so  that  we  cannot  conceive  of  the  one  without  imply- 
ing the  existence  of  the  t)ther,  it  is  still  true,  that  in  them- 
selves considered  they  are  entirely  separate,  each  having  an 
entity  and  a  character  of  its  own.  And  if  the  ideas  of  liberty 
and  power  are  thus  distinct  from  each  other,  then  we  are  un- 
der the  necessity  of  drawing  the  inference,  that  the  things, 
for  which  they  stand,or  in  other  words  that  .power  and  liberty, 
in  their  state  of  actual  realization,are  different  from  each  other. 

§.  211.  Distinction  of  power  and  liberty  shown  Jrom  language. 

That  there  exists  a  distinction  between  mental  power 
and  mental  liberty,  and  that  this  distinction  is  to  be  fully 
recognized  and  received,  seems  to  be  evident,  in  the  third 
place,  from  the  structure  of  language.  In  the  English  lan- 
guage we  have  the  two  terms  in  question,  which  we  con- 
stantly use,  not  as  synonymous  terms,  but  as  truly  expres- 
sive of  things,  which  are  different  from  each  other.  And  as 
it  is  the  same  in  all  other  languages,  we  may  well  regard 
this  as  a  circumstance,  which  decisively  indicates  the  gener- 
alconviction  and  belief  on  this  subject.  The  existence  of  a 
belief  so  general  and  so  deeply  founded  does  not  appear  to 
admit  of  any  satisfactory  explanation,  except  on  the  ground 
of  the  actual  existence  of  the  distinction,  to  which  the  be- 
lief relates. 


NATURE    OF    MENTAL    POW 

§.  212.  Further  shown  from  the  fact  of  our  possi 

nature. 

Furthermore,  the  possession  of  mental  power,  as  well  as 
of  mental  liberty,  is  involved  in  the  fact,  that  man  is  a  mor- 
al and  accountable  being.  In  all  the  leading  questions, 
which  have  a  relation  to  our  moral  nature,  we  are  thrown 
back  upon  the  elementary  suggestions,  upon  fne  first  and 
immutable  principles  of  our  mental  constitution.  Our  Cre- 
ator has  not  left  these  questions  to  be  settled  by  the  ab- 
struse deductions  of  philosophers;  but  has  written  their  solu- 
tion in  letters  of  light  on  the  tablet  of  the  common  heart  of 
mankind.  All  classes  and  descriptions  of  men  are  alike  ca- 
pable of  understanding  their  import,  and  of  rendering  their 
interpretation.  They  all  know,  hardly  less  than  they  know 
their  own  identity,  and  far  better  than  any  human  philosophy 
can  teach  them,  that  moral  responsibleness  implies  the  exis- 
tence of  power,  and  that  the  defect  of  power  necessarily  in- 
volves the  negation  of  accountability. 

"  There  is,  says  Dr.  Reid,  a  perfect  correspondence  be- 
tween power  on  the  one  hand,  and  moral  obligation  and  ac- 
countableness  on  the  other.  They  not  only  correspond  in 
general,  as  they  respect  voluntary  actions  only,  but  every 
limitation  of  the  first  produces  a  corresponding  limitation  of 
the  two  last.  This  indeed  amounts  to  nothing  more  than 
that  maxim  of  common  sense,  confirmed  by  Divine  authority, 
ih^t  to  Avhom  much  is  given,  of  him  much  will  be  required." 

'*A  certain  degree  of  active  power  is  the  talent  which 

God  has  given  to  every  rational  accountable  creature,  and 
of  which  he  will  require  an  account.  If  man  had  no  power, 
he  would  have  nothing  to  account  for.  All  wise  and  all 
foolish  conduct,  all  virtue  and  vice,  consist  in  the  right  use 
or  in  the  abuse  of  that  power  which   God  l^as  given  us.     If 


318  NATURE    OF    MENTAL     POWER. 

man  had  no  power,  he  could  neither  be  wise  nor  foolish,  vir- 
tuous nor  vicious."* 

§.  213.   Origin  of  the  idea  of  power  in  Original  Suggestion, 

What  has  so  far  been  said  in  this  Chapter,  at  least  when 
taken  in  connection  with  the  illustrations  of  voluntary  pow- 
er hereafter  given,  abundantly  shows,  that  there  is  a  distinc- 
tion between  power  and  liberty,  and  that  it  is  important  not 
to  confound  them  together.  The  subject  of  power,  there- 
fore, is  a  subject  by  itself;  and  requiring  a  separate  and 
careful  consideration. — And  in  entering  upon  the  examina- 
tion of  this  subject,  it  seems  to  be  a  proper  place  here,  to 
say  a  few  words  in  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the  idea  of 
POWER.  Power  is  obviously  not  any  thing,  which  is  direct- 
ly addressed  to  the  outward  senses.  It  is  not  addressed  to 
the  sense  of  sight  as  colors  are;  nor  to  the  sense  of  hearing 
as  sounds  are;  nor  to  the  taste;  nor  to  any  other  of  the  out- 
ward senses.  We  cannot  see  it,  nor  hear  it,  nor  touch  it 
nor  taste,  it,  although  it  is  every  where  actually  diffused; 
for  it  is  a  first  truth  and  undeniably  certain,  that,  wherever 
there  is  existence,  there  is  power,  either  actually  in  the  thing 
itself  or  in  some  way  connected  with  it. 

If  the  idea  of  power  is  not  to  be  ascribed  in  its  origin  to 
external  perception  in  any  of  its  forms,  we  must  look  within 
for  its  rise.  And  in  doing  this  we  find  ourselves  unable  to 
assert  any  thing  more  than  this,  that  it  is  the  result,  (that  is 
to  say  it  is  made  known  to  us  by  means  of  it,)  of  that  Origi- 
nal Suggestion,  which  has  already  been  referred  to  as  the 
true  source  of  our  idea  of  liberty.  In  other  words  we  are 
so  constituted,  that,  on  certain  occasions  and  under  certain 
circumstances,  the  idea  of  power  naturally  and  necessarily 
arises  or  is  suggested  within  us.  This  is  all,  that  can  be 
said  of  its  origin,  as  far  as  the  mind  is  concerned. 

*Rpjd'B  Active  Ppwers  of  the  Human  Mind,  Essay  IV. 


NATURE    OF    MENTAL    POWER.  319 

§.  214.    Occasions  of  the  origin  oj  the  idea  of  power. 

But  what  are  those  occasions  or  circumstances  just  now 
spoken  of,  on  which  the  faculty  of  Original  Suggestion  is 
brought  into  action,  and  in  connection  with  which  it  gives 
existence  and  birth  to  the  idea  in  question? 

Although  on  this  point  our  views  may  perhaps  be  at  va- 
riance with  those  of  some  other  writers,  the  occasions,  so 
far  as  we  are  ahle  to  judge,  appear  to  be  three  fold. — (1)  All 
cases  of  antecedence  and  sequence  in  the  natural  world. 
We  are  so  constituted,  that,  in  connection  with  such  cases 
of  antecedence  and  sequence,  we  are  led  at  a  very  early  pe- 
riod of  life,  to  frame  the  proposition  and  to  receive  it  as  an 
undeniable  truth,  that  there  can  be  no  beginning  or  change 
of  existence  without  a  cause.  This  proposition  involves  the 
idea  of  efficiency  or  power. — (2)  The  control  of  the  will 
over  the  muscular  action.  We  are  so  constituted,  that,  when- 
ever we  will  to  put  a  part  of  the  body  in  motion,  and  the 
motion  follows  the  volition,  we  have  the  idea  of  power. — (3) 
The  control  of  the  will  over  the  other  mental  powers.  With- 
in certain  limits  and  to  a  certain  extent  there  seems  to  be 
ground  for  supposing,  that  the  will  is  capable  of  exercising  a 
directing  control  over  the  mental,  as  well  as  over  the  bodily 
powers.  And  whenever  we  are  conscious  of  such  control 
being  exercised,  whether  it  be  greater  or  less,  occasion  is 
furnished  for  the  origin  of  this  idea.  It  is  then  called  forth 
or  suggested. 

It  is  proper  to  add  here,  that  the  idea  of  power,  like  that 
of  freedom  or  liberty,  is  simple,  and  consequently  is  not 
susceptible  of  definition,  although  no  one  can  be  supposed 
to  be  ignorant  of  what  is  meant  by  the  term. 

§.  215.    The  idea  of  power  involves  the  reality  of  power. 

But  because  the  idea  of  power  is  undefinable,  we  are  not, 


S20  NATURE    OF    MENTAL    POWER. 

therefore,  to  suppose,  that  it  represents  nothing;  in  other 
words  that  power  is  in  itself  i§  a  chirasera  and  non-entity; 
a  mere  baseless  fiction  of  the  mind,  like  those  shadowy  and 
illusive  pictures,  which  in  times  of  ignorance  and  supersti- 
tion are  seen  written  in  the  air.  This  would  be  a  great  mis- 
take. It  is  true  that  there  may  be  complex  ideas  of  things, 
as  Mr.  Locke  has  correctly  maintained,  which  are  chimeri- 
cal; that  is  to  say,  which  have  nothing  corresponding  to 
them  in  outward  objects,  or  in  any  thing  else,  such  as  the 
ideas  of  a  hypogriff,  dragon,  centaur,  gold  lighter  than  wa- 
ter, &c.  But  this  want  of  correspondence  between  the  idea 
and  the  object  to  which  it  relates  or  professes  to  relate,  is 
never  experienced  in  the  case  of  simple  ideas;  and  it  is  not 
at  all  surprising,  that  we  should  find  this  difference  in  these 
two  classes  of  our  notions.  Complex  ideas,  so  far  as  the 
combination  and  arrangement  of  the  subordinate  elements 
is  concerned,  is  the  work  of  man;  and  it  may  sometimes  hap- 
pen, therefore,  that  they  are  expressive,  or  rather  profess  to 
be  so,  of  what  has  no  real  existence.  But  simple  ideas  on 
the  other  hand,  which  result  necessarily  from  the  action  of 
the  mind  under  given  circumstances,  may  be  regarded  as  tru- 
ly the  work  of  the  great  author  of  our  mental  nature  ;  and 
it  would  be  inconsistent  with  our  ideas  of  his  perfections, 
particularly  his  truth,  as  well  as  with  our  own  consciousness 
and  experience,  to  suppose  that  they  ever  express  any  thing 
other  thaj:i  an  unchangeable  reality. 

§.  216.    Things  exist  which  are  not  made  known  by  the  senses. 

Can  it  be  necessary  to  say,  that  there  are  existences,  at 
least  that  there  are  realities,  (whether  they  are  existences  in 
themselves,  or  the  mere  attributes  of  things,  or  relations,) 
which  have  no  outward  and  visible  representation  ?  We 
know,  that  the  contrary  supposition  would  not  be  inconsis- 
tent with  the  philosophy  of  Condillac  and  Helvetius  ;    but 


NATURE    OF    MENTAL    POWER.  $21 

present  appearances,  the.  result  of  patient  and  repeated  inqui- 
ries, seem  clearly  to  indicate  ,that  the  philosophical  systems 
of  those  writers,  cannot,  in  this  particular  at  least,  be  sustain- 
ed.. It  is  undoubtedly  true,that  we  do  not  have  a  knowledge 
of  Power  by  means  of  any  direct  action  on  the  outward  sen- 
ses; that  it  has  no  form  and  outline,  as  if  it  were  some  material 
entity;  that  it  is  not  the  subject  of  any  process  of  material 
admeasurement;  that  it  is  not  an  object  of  sight,  hearing,  or 
touch.  But  the  leading  writers  on  the  mind  agree  in  assur- 
ing us,  that  there  are  inward  sources  of  knowledge;  that 
there  are  things  and  the  attributes  of  things,  which  are  not 
susceptible  of  any  material  or  outward  representation  ;  but 
are  made  known  by  an  original  developement  exclusively 
taking  place  in  the  mind  itself.  And  power,  whether  it  be 
something  in  itself,  or  the  attribute  of  something  else,,  is  one 
of  this  class. 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  give  instances  in  illustration 
Off  these  statements.  .  Is  there  no  such  thing  as  design  or 
foresight?  Is  there  no  such  thing  as  identity,  unity,  or  num- 
ber, as  succession  and  time  and  space?  .  Is  there  no  such 
thing  as  intelligence  or  truth,  as  wrong  or  rectitude?  And 
yet  these  are  not  made  known  by  any  direct  action  on  the 
senses,  but  by  the  mind  alone;  by  the  creative  energy  of 
the  spritual  principle  within  us,  called  into  action  in  the  va- 
rious circumstances  incident  to  its  present  situation.  And  it 
is  certain  that  we  have  no  more  knowledge  of  these,  than 
we  have  of  Power. 

§.217.    Of  power  as  an  attribute  of  the  human  mind. 

Without  saying  any  thing  further   on  the  existence  and 

nature  of  power  in   general,  and   of  the   way   in  which  we 

have  a  knowledge  of  it,  we  now  proceed  to   remark  uporn 

power  as  existing  in,  and  as  an  aittribute  of  the  human  mind. 

41 


322  NATURE   OF    MENTAL    POWER. 

There  is  power  somewhere.  Is  it  also  in  the  mind  of  man  ? 
Does  it  reside  there  as  something  substantive  and  positive, 
or  is  it  merely  an  appearance? 

In  proof  of  the  position,  that  power  in  the  strict  sense 
of  the  term  is  an  attribute  of  the  human  mind,  we  may 
safely  appeal,  in  the  first  place,  to  each  one's  consciousness. 
Every  one  is  supposed  to  know  what  power  is,  although,  as 
has  been  said,  it  is  not  susceptible  of  definition.  And  every 
man  is  conscious,  that  he  possesses  this  power  in  himself ; 
not  perhaps  in  so  high  a  degree  as  it  actually  exists  in  some 
others,  but  yet  in  some  degree.  He  is  not  conscious,  that  it 
exists  in  him  in  the  form  of  a  separate  faculty,  analogous  to 
perception  or  memory  ;  but  that  it  exists  as  an  attribute  of 
the  whole  mind,  and  is  diffused,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
through  all  its  faculties.  That  is  to  say,  having  from  the 
earliest  period  formed  a  distinct  idea  of  power  and  already 
knowing  what  it  is,  he  has  an  original  feeling  or  conviction, 
that  such  is  the  case  ;  that  in  every  exercise  or  operation  of 
the  mind  there  is,  and  must  be  power.  It  is  a  matter  upon 
which,  so  far  as  it  relates  to  himself,  he  does  not  profess  to 
reason;  for  the  conviction  is  an  original  one,  approximating 
to  the  nature  of  an  intuition;  and  it  is  therefore,  in  his  view, 
neither  assailable  by  argument,  nor  capable  of  being  sus- 
tained in  that  way. 

Furthermore,  the  existence  of  power  as  an  attribute  of 
the  human  mind  is  proved  by  our  observation  of  others. 
When  we  carefully  consider  the  wonderful  efforts  of  the  hu- 
man intellect,  with  what  rapidity  and  consummate  skill  it 
embraces  and  analyzes  the  most  difficult  subjects,  have 
we  not  evidence  of  power?  When  we  see  men  controlling 
their  passions,sustaining  themselves  in  meekness  and  fortitude 
amid  the  most  cruel  assaults,  have  we  not  additional  evi- 
dence? When  we  read  of  the  Republics  of  antiquity,  of  the 
eloquence  that  shook  and  swayed  the  fierce  democracy  of 


NATURE    OF    MENTAL    POWER.  3j23 

Athens,  and  controlled  the  proud  hearts  and  intellects  of 
Roman  senators,  and  in  later  times  has  risen  with  no  less 
ascendency  in  the  stormy  periods  of  the  French  and  Eng- 
lish Parliaments,  can  we  believe  that  these  astonishing  ef- 
fects are  the  results  of  minds  constituted  without  any  infusion 
of  the  element  of  power?  Might  we  not  as  well  turn  bur 
eyes  to  the  sun  in  the  heavens,  when  he  throws  his  bright 
beams  over  the  mountain  tops  and  the  green  woods  of  sum- 
mer, and  say  there  is  ho  light  ? 

§  218.  Further  shown  by  a  reference  to  the  Divine  Mind, 

On  this  subject,  (the  existence  of  power  as  truly  an  at- 
tribute of  the  human  mind,)  it  may  not  be  improper,  although 
it  is  to  be  done  with  suitable  humility  and  circumspection,  to 
reason  from  the  Supreme  Being  to  the  creatures  he  has 
made.  We  are  informed  in  the  pages  of  Holj^  Writ,  that 
man  was  created  in  the  image  of  his  Maker  ;  and  it  cannot 
be  doubted,  that  the  similitude  was  mental,  and  not  bodily. 
It  was  the  mind,  the  spiritual  part,  that  was  honoured  with 
bearing  the  glorious  impress  of  the  divine  lineaments. 

It  may  indeed  be  said  by  way  of  objection,  that  the 
alledged  similitude  between  man  and  his  Maker  is  lim- 
ited to  man's  moral  nature  ;  but  it  should  be  recollec- 
ted, that  it  is.  impossible  entirely  to  separate  man's  moral 
from  his  intellectual  part.  As  the  moral  nature  is  based  upon 
the  intellectual,  (for  there  obviously  can  be  no  accounta- 
bility where  there  are  no  powers  of  perceiving  and  judg- 
ing,) the  existence  of  the  former  of  course  involves  and  im- 
plies the  existence  of  the  latter.  If  there  be  a  reality  in  the 
distinction  between  right  and  wrong,  there  must  be  not 
only  feeling  and  volition,  but  intelligence  ;  and  we  cannot 
conceive  of  virtue  or  vice  in  connection  with  the  absence  of 
either  of  them. With  these  views  of  the  connection  exis- 
ting among  all  the  parts  of  man's  mental  nature,  the  moral, 


324      NATURE  OF  MENTAL  POWER. 

sentient,  voluntary,  and  intellectual,  we  understand  the 
statement  of  pian's  primitive  creation  in  the  image  of  God  to 
mean,  that  there  was  really  a  likeness  in  kind,  however  di- 
verse in  degree;  and  that  this  similitude  extends  to  all  parts 
of  our  mental  nature,  with  the  exception  of  what  are  purely 
instinctive,  or  are  essentially  connected,with  our  bodily  and 
material  organization.  Now  no  one  will  deny,  that  power 
is  an  attribute  of  the  Divine  Mind;  and  hence,  reasoning 
from  the  maker  to  that  which  is  made,  from  the  original  and 
self-existent  archetype  to  the  derived  and  dependent  simili- 
tude, we  have  good  grounds  to  believe,  that  power  exists 
positively  and  substantively  in  man,  as  well  as  the  Being 
who  formed  him.  "If  it  is  granted,  says  an  American  wri- 
ter, that  God  is  an  efficient  cause  ;  that  in  him  is  energy, 
activity,  which  constitutes  Him  an  active  agent  ;  why  may 
not  man  be  endued  with  the  same  principle,  so  as  to  make 
him  an  active  agent?  His  being  dependent,  and  his  powers 
limited,  are  no  objection  of  any  weight  against  viewing  hira 
an  active  agent.  If  God  can  create  a  dependent,  limited  be- 
ing, why  can  he  not  endue  him  with  an  active,  dependent, 
limited,  principle  of  action  ?  I  see  no  objection  of  weight 
against  this,  and  of  course  prefer  viewing  a  moral  agent 
as  really  having  in  his  heart  the  same  active,  energetic  prin- 
ciple, as  we  suppose  God  possesses.  It  is  granted  this  active 
principle  in  man,  which  renders  him  an  agent,  is  depen- 
dent and  limited  So  is  his  being  ;  yet  he  is  a  real  being, 
distinct  from  God."* 

This,  then,  is  the  view,  which  we  think  ourselves  amply 
justified  in  taking,  viz,  that  the  Supreme  Being  has  created 
men  with  power;  that  he  has  communicated  of  his  own  full 
ness  to  those,  who  would  have  been  wanting,  without  this 
communication.     As  the  planetary  orbs  revolve  around  the 

*  Burton's  Metaphysics,  Ethics,  and  Theology  Essay  XIII. 


NATURE    OF    MENTAL    POWER.  325 

solar  fountain  of  effulgence  and  attraction,  and,  although 
they  are  entirely  distinct,  are  yet  dependent  upon  it  for  mo- 
tion as  well  as  light,  in  like  manner  all  intellectual  and  sen- 
tient beings,  •  in  their  various  orders,  from  the  archangel 
down  to  man,  are  set  off  from  the  great  Source  of  all  knowl- 
edge and  efficiency;  and,  although  they  are  created  in  the 
image  of  God  and  are  constantly  supported  by  Him,  have 
yet  a  distinct  existence,  a  distinct  though  dependent  agency, 
and  Tjevolve  in  their  own  appropriate  sphere. 


'W 


CHAPTER  SECOND. 


POWER  OF  THE  WILL. 


§*  ^l^.Proof  of  power  in  the  Ml  from  the  analogy  of  the  mind* 

But  it  is  not  enough  td  explain  the  nature  of  power^  and 
to  assert  its  existence  as  an  attribute  of  the  mind  in  gener- 
al terms,  we  proceed  now  to  consider  its  existence  in  that 
particular  faculty  or  department  of  the  mind,  which  is  de- 
nominated the  WILL.  Power  is  not  only  predicable  of  the 
mind  in  a  general  way;  but  it  is  predicable  of  its  parts,  and 
particularly  and  emphatically  so  of  our  voluntary  nature. 
The  analogy  running  through  our  mental  constitution  fur- 
nishes some  grounds  and  authority  for  this  remark.  Men 
universally  speak,  (and  they  undoubtedly  believe  they  have 
good  reason  so  to  do,)  of  the  power  of  sensation,  of  the 
power  of  perception,  of  the  power  of  memory,  imagination, 
reasoning,  &c.  The  structure  of  all  languages,  (for  they 
appear  to  be  all  alike  in  this  respect,)  proves  what  they 
think;  and  we  may  add,  proves  what  they  A;wou>  on  this  sub- 
ject. It  is  natural  for  the  man  who  perceives,  to  say  that  he 
has  the  power  of  perception;  the  man,who  remembers  or  rea- 
sons, asserts  without  hesitation,  that  he  has  the  power  of  re- 


POWER    OF    THE    WILL.  327 

membering  or  reasoning  ;  and  it  is  .impossible  to  convince 
these  men,  either  that  these  expressions  are  improperly  ap- 
plied, or  that  they  are  nugatory  and  convey  no  distinct 
meaning. But  if  there  is  truly  a  foundation  for  such  ex- 
pressions, and  if  there  is  a  propriety  and  truth  in  the  use  of 
them,  is  there  not  equal  propriety  in  speaking  of  the  power 
of  the  will?  If  every  other  mental  action  clearly  and  con- 
vincingly indicates  to  us  the  existence  of  an  innate  energy 
corresponding  to  such  action,it  cannot  be  supposed,  that  the 
act  of  willing  alone,  which  is  a  preeminent  and  leading  ex- 
ercise of  the  mind,  exists  independently  of  any  actual  basis 
of  voluntary  energy.  The  analogy,  therefore,  of  the  men- 
tal constitution,  (for  we  are  undoubtedly  at  liberty  to  reason 
from  analogy,  in  this  case  as  well  as  others,)  distinctly  leads 
to  the  result,  that  power  is  appropriate  to  and  is  an  attri- 
bute of  the  will. 

§.  220.  The  poioer  of  the  will  restricted  and  subordinate. 

But,  although  the  will  has  power,  it  is  not  therefore  in- 
dependent. We  have  already  seen  ample  evidence  of  its 
subjection  to  law.  And  in  this  respect  it  is  on  the  same 
footing  with  the  other  powers  of  the  mind.  There  is  no  exer- 
cise of  memory  without  something  remembered  ;  no  per- 
ception without  an  object  perceived  ;  and  there  are  not  only 
objects,  which  the  action  of  these  faculties  necessarily  has 
relation  to;  but  there  are  various  other  restrictions,  (without 
any  impropriety  of  language  we  might  term  them  laws,)  by 
which  that  action  is  governed.  But  are  we  to  say  on  this 
account  that  the  attribute  of  power  does  not  belong  to  the 
perception,  the  memory,  or  the  process  of  reasoning  ?  If 
so,  we  must  for  like  reasons  exclude  it  from  every  other 
mental  susceptibility,  which  is  the  same  as  to  exclude  it 
from  the  whole  mind  ;  for  the  mental  susceptibilities  are 
nothing  more  than  the  mind  itself  acting  in  various  ways. 


Sta  POWEE    OF    THE    WILL. 

And  a  mind  without  j)Ower  is  not  an  operative  principle, 
but  a  principle,or  rather  an  object  operated  upon  ;  and  is  of 
course  destitute  of  all  attractions  and  worth  in  itself,and  of  all 
moral  accountability  to  anything  else.  There  may  be  power, 
therefore,  which  power  is,  nevertheless,  under  direction  and 
control.  And  accordingly,  while  we  maintain  the  existence 
of  power  in  the  \vill,we  must  not  forget  its  subjection  to  law  ; 
nor  suppose  that  the  one  is  at  all  inconsistent  with  the  other. 

§.  221.  Proof  oj  'power  in  the  will  from  internal  txperience, 

•  That  power  is  predicable  of  the  will,  as  well  as  of  any 
other  faculty  of  the  mind  or  of  the  mind  as  a  whole,  is  evinced 
not  only  by  the  analogy  running  through  the  mental  str.uc- 
ture,  but  by  other  considerations.  Among  other  views  to 
be  taken  of  the  subject  now  before  us,  may  we  not,  in  this 
inquiry  as  well  as  in  others,  make  an  appeal  to  our  own  in- 
ternal experience  ?  In  other  words,  have  we  not  beyond  all 
doubt  a  testimony  within  us,  a  direct  and  decisive  internal 
evidence  of  power  in  the  acts  of  the  will  ?  Do  we  not  feel 
and  know  it  to  be  so  ? — Let  us  take  a  familiar  instance  as  a 
test  of  these  inquiries.  When  a  person  wills  to  go  to  a  cer- 
tain place,  or  wills  to  do  a  certain  thing,  does  the  volition 
appear  to  have  been  wrought  within  himself  by  an  extraneous 
cause  ?  Does  it  appear  to  have  been  created  and  placed  there 
without  any  personal  agency  and  effort  ?  Or  does  it  rather 
distinctly  and  satisfactorily  indicate  to  him  an  energy  of  his 
own  ^  Few  persons,  it  is  believed,  will  hesitate  as  to  what 
answer  to  give. 

Our  conciousness,  therefore,  distinctly  assures  us,  (al- 
though it  is  beyond  all  question  that  the  will  is  circumscrib- 
and  regulated  by  its  appropriate  laws,)  that  within  the  lim- 
its constituting  its  appropriate  sphere,  its  action  truly  orig- 
inates in  its  own  power.  It  wills,  because  it  has  the  power 
to  will.    It  acts,  because  it  possesses  that  energy,  which  is 


POWER    OF    THE    WILL.  329 

requisite  to  constitute  the  basis  of  action.  In  the  language 
of  one  of  the  characters  of  the  great  English  dramatist,  when 
pressed  for  the  reasons  of  a  certain  course  of  proceeding, 

"  The  cause  is  in  my  will  ;  I  will  not  come."         •  .   . 

§.  222.  Proved  from  the  ability  which  we  have  to  direct  oiir 
attention  to  particular  subjects. 

In  one  particular  at  least,  our  internal  experience  seems 
to  be  clear  and  decisive,  viz.  that  we  are  able  to  direct  our 
attention  to  some  subjects  of  inquiry  in  preference  to  others. 
It  is  admitte;d  that  we  cannot  call  up  a  thought  or  a  train  of 
thought  by  a  mere  and  direct  act  of  volition  ;  although  we 
have  an  indirect  power  in  this  respect,  which  is  not  without 
its  important  results.  But  when  various  trains  of  thought 
are  passing  through  the  mind,  we  are  enabled,  as  it  is  pre- 
sumed every  one  must  be  conscious,  to  direct  our  attention 
and  to  fix  it  firmly  upon  one  thought  or  one  train  of  thought 
in  preference  to  another.  It  is  undoubtedly  the  tendency 
of  association  to  remove  the  thought  or  the  train  of  thoilght, 
whatever  it  is,  from  the  mind  ;  but  the  power  of  the  will,- 
where  it  is  decisively  exerted,  can  counteract  this  .tendency, 
and  keep  the  mind  in  essentially  the  same  position  for  a 
greater  or  less  length  of  time.  And  it  does  not  appear  what 
explanation  can  possibly  be  given  of  the  fact,  that  we  thus 
frequently  delay  upon  subjects  and  revolve  them  in  our  con- 
templation, except  on  the  ground' of. a  real  and  effective  en- 
ergy of  the  will. 

§.  223,  Proof  of  power  in  the  will  from  observation. 

Furthermore,  the  phenomena   of  human  nature,  as  they 

come  within  our  constant  observation,  cannot  be  explained, 

except  on  the  supposition,that  the  will  is  not  the  subject  of  any 

extraneous  operation  or  power,in  such  a  sense  as  entirely  to 
42 


330  POWER    OF   THE    WILL. 

exclude  power  or  agency  of  its  own.  Do  we  not  often  see-in- 
stances  of  persons,  in  whom  vigor  of  the  will  is  a  characteris- 
tic and  predominant  trait;  and  whose  character  and  conduct 
cannot  be  explained,  except  on  the  ground,  that  they  possess 
a  voluntary  energy  of  their  own,  and  that  too  in  a  high  de- 
gree? Men  have  often  been  placed  in  the  most  trying  cir- 
cumstances, called  to  endure  the  pains  of  imprisonment,  and 
hunger  and  thirst,  and  torture  and  exile  and  death  ;  and  they 
have  undergone  it  all  with  a  inost  astonishing  fortitude  and 
calmness,  without  shedding  a  tear  or  uttering  a  lamentation. 
Here  is  something  difficult  to  be  explained,  unless  we  take 
into  consideration  that  innate  power,  which  we  assert  to  be 
an  attribute  of  the  will. 

Whatever  may  be  said  of  the  fervid  sincerity  of  his  reli- 
gion, or  the  natural  benevolence  of  his  heart,  are  we  able 
satisfactorily  to  explain  the  character  and  deeds  of  the  illus- 
trious Howard,  except  iDy  taking  this  view  ?  "  The  energy 
of  his  determination,  says  a  judicious  and  valuable  writer, 
was  so  great,  that,  if  instead  of  being  habitual,  it  had  been 
shown  only  for  a  short  time  on  particular  occasions,  it  would 
have  appeared  a  vehement  impetuosity;  but  by  being  unin- 
termitted,  it  had  an  equability  of  manner,  which  scarcely  ap- 
peared to  exceed  the  tone  of  a  calm  constancy,  it  was  so  to- 
tally the  reverse  of  any  thing  like  turbulence  or  agitation. 
It  was  the  calmness  of  an  intensity,  kept  uniform  by  the  na- 
ture of  the  human  mind  forbidding  it  to  be  more,  and  by  the 
character  of  the  individual  forbidding  it  to  be  less."* 

The  case  of  Howard,  marked  and  extraordinary  as  it  is, 
does  not  stand  alone .  Every  age  of  the  world  and  every 
class  of  society  have  their  men  of  this  stamp.  Extraordina- 
ry endowments  of  the  will  are  as  necessary  to  support  soci- 
ety-and  to  meet  the  exigencies  of  our  situation,  asextraordi- 
Bary  endowments  of  intellect.  But  unfortunately,  though 
♦Foster's  Essay  on  Decision  of  Character. 


POWER    OF    THE    WILL.  331 

they  are  given  in  the  discretion  and  wisdom  of  the  great 
dispenser  of  all  mental  gifts,  they  are  not  always  wisely  and 
righteously  employed.  A  multitude  of  instances,  of  a  char- 
acter both  good  and  evil,  will  occur  to  everyone;  among 
others,  Alexander,  Caesar,  Regulus,  Charles  Twelfth,  Hanni- 
bal, Columbus,  the  Apostle  Paul,  Cromwell,  Nelson,  Led-* 
yard,  Mungo  Park,  John  Knox,  Luther,  Whitefield,  &c. 
The  language  of  Ledyard  will  show  the  intensity  of  deter- 
mination existing  in  such  men.  *'My  distresses  have  been 
greater  than  I  have  ever  owned,  or  ever  t«i// own  to  any 
man.  I  have  known  hunger  and  nakedness,  to  the  utmost 
extremity  of  human  suffering;  I  have  known  what  it  is  to 
have  food  given  me  as  charity  to  a  madman ;  and  I  have 
at  times  been  obliged  to  shelter  myself  under  the  miseries 
of  that  character  to  avoid  a  heavier  calamity.  Such  evils 
are  terrible  to  bear,  but  they  never  have  yet  had  power  to 
turn  me  from  my  purpose.'^ 

§.  224.   Of  power  of  the  will  as  exhibited  in  patience  under 
suffering. 

We  invite  the  particular  attention  of  the  reader  to  the 
view  of  the  subject,  which  is  now  presented  before  him. 
If  he  will  take  the  trouble  to  contemplate  it  steadily,  we 
doubt  not  it  will  have  its  due  weight.  We  wish  to  be  un- 
derstood as  distinctly  and  fully  maintaining,  on  the  ground 
of  common  observation,  that  the  will  has  an  actual  and  sub- 
stantive power;  and  that  it  is  utterly  impossible  to  explain 
the  phenomena  of  human  nature  except  by  taking  this  view. 
Nor  do  we  propose,  in  support  of  our  positions,  to  introduce 
merely  extraordinary  instances  of  energy  of  the  will;  but 
on  the  contrary  should  not  hesitate  to  rest  the  issue  of  the 
inquiry  on  an  appeal  to  cases,  which  are  of  common  occur- 
rence. We  have  an  evidence,  (an  unobtrusive  one  perhaps 
but  still  worthy  of  our  notice,)  of  the  power  of  tke  will  in 


532  POWER    OF    THE    Vv^LIL. 

that  patience  and  submissiveness,  which  we  not  unfrequent- 
ly  witness  in  the  orcTinary  trials  of  life.  Persons,  who  have 
had  their  sensibilities  wounded  day  after  day  and  hour  after 
hour,  have  been  seen  at  the  same  time  to  wear  the  smile  of 
cheerfulness  ;  and  so  far  from  uttering  complaints  and  in- 
jiulging  a  rebellious  spirit,  they  have  been  uniformly  kind  to 
those,  who  were  the  causes  of  their  suffering..  Others,  who 
have  suffered  under  the  approaches  of  a  wasting  and  insidious 
disease,  have  completely  succeeded  in  quieting  the  emotions 
within  them,  and  permitted  no  murmur  to  arise  ;  they  have 
even  blessed  these  trying  visitations  of  Providence,  and 
have  shed  a  loveliness,  glorious  for  themselves  and  cheering 
to  the  heart  of  the  spectator,  over  the  chamber  of  sickness 
and  death.  It  is  not  enough  to  say ,  that  they  may  have 
possessed  an  enlightened  understanding  or  a  virtuous  heart; 
nothing  but  the  innate  energy  of  the  will,  (however  it  may 
have  been  supported  by  correct  views  and  virtuous  princi- 
ples,) could  have  silenced  and  subdued  the  secret  voice  of 
anguish. 

§.  225.  Illustration  of  the  subject  from  the  command  of  temper. 

The  fact,  that  men  are  not  governed  by  a  fatality  impres- 
sed upon  them  from  an  exterior  cause,  but  have  an  efficien- 
cy  in  themselves,  may  be  further  illustrated  from  the  control, 
which  they  are  seen  to  exercise  over  their  passions  in  what 
is  called  command  of  temper.  Few  sayings  are  more  celebra- 
ted than  that  of  Socrates  on  a  certain  occasion  to  his  ser- 
vant, that  he  would  beat  him  if  he  were  not  angry.  Hume, 
who  is  entitled  to  the  credit  of  being  a  careful  observer  of 
human  nature,  says  of  Henry  IV  of  England,  that  "his  com- 
mand of  temper  was  remarkable;"  and  it  is  not  uncommon  to 
find  this  trait  pointed  6ut  by  historians  artd  biographers,  as 
one  worthy  of  particular  notice.  The  biographer  of  our  il- 
lustrious countryman  Mr.  Jay,  says, that"  he  sought  not  the 


POWER    OF    THE    WILL.  333 

glory  which  cometh  from  man,  and  the  only  power  of  which 
he  was  covetous  was  the  command  of  himself.''''*  And  this 
power,  although  he  was  obliged  to  contend  with  a  natural 
irritability  of  temper,  he  exhibited  in  a  very  high  degree. 
— ^But  there  is  another  name  in  American  history  of  yet 
higher  interest  to  our  nation  and  to  mankind.  It  was  not 
among  the  least  of  the  excellencies  of  Washington,  great  and 
various  as  they  were,  that  he  possessed  a  perfect  self-control. 
With  an  intellect,  which,  though  somewhat  slow  in  its  ac- 
tion, invariably  came  to  a  correct  result;  with  a  high  moral 
sense,  so  prompt  aud  pure  in  its  decisions,  as  to  secure  the 
numerous  and  complicated  acts  of  his  life  from  all  moral  re- 
proach, it  was  nevertheless  true,  that  his  passions  were 
naturally  excitable  and  strong.  But  he  fully  succeeded 
in  keeping  them  under  admirable  government.  In  the  most 
trying  situations,  there  was  a  calmness  and  dignity  of  coun- 
tenance and  manner,  which  commanded  the  deepest  respect. 
Such  was  the  energy  of  his  will,  that  it  kept  every  thing  in 
its  place,  and  stamped  a  delightful  harmony  on  his  whole 
character;  and  being  thus  able  to  govern  himself,  he  was  ad- 
mirably fitted  to  govern  this  young  and  unsettled  republic. 

§.   226.    Further  illustrations  of  this  subject. 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  specify  other  distinguished 
men  both  of  our  own  and  other  countries,  who  knew  how  to 
conciliate  the  actings  of  a  sensitive  and  enkindled  heart  with 
the  coolest  circumspection  and  the  most  perfect  self-com- 
mand. But  this  is  not  necessary,  since  the  trait  in  question 
is  one  daily  coming  within  our  notice.  It  is  not  uncommon, 
in  almost  every  village  and  neighborhood,  to  observe  per- 
sons of  naturally  quick  feelings,  and  whose  passions  are  ob- 
viously violent  and  are  prone  to  foam  and  tosS  about  like 
the  waves  of  the  sea,  who  nevertheless  have  those  passions 
♦Life  of  John  Jay,  Vol.  I.  Chap.  I2th. 


# 


334  POWER    OP    THE    WILL. 

under  complete  control,  even  in  the  most  trying  circumstan- 
ces. 

And  is  it  not  a  duty  to  exercise  this  control  over  the  pas- 
sions ?  "He,  that  ruleth  his  spirit,  says  Solomon,is  better  than 
he  that  taketh  a  city."  And  again,  "He,  that  hath  no  rule  over 
his  own  spirit,  is  like  a  city  that  is  broken  down,  and  with- 
out walls."  "  Be  ye  angry,  says  the  Apostle,  and  sin  not; 
let  not  the  sun  go  down  upon  your  wrath."  Here,  then  is  a 
great  practical  fact  in  the  philosophy  of  the  inind,  and  upon 
which  important  and  solemn  duties  are  based,  viz,  that  the 
passions  are  under  our  control.  But  where  is  the  power, 
that  controls  them?  It  is  not  enough  to  say,  that  this  pow- 
er of  regulation  and  control  is  deposited  in  the  understan- 
ding. It  is  true  that  the  understanding  can  suggest  various 
and  important  reasons,  why  this  control  should  be  exercised; 
but  it  cannot  of  itself  render  those  reasons  effective  and 
available.  The  greatest  light  in  the  understanding,  and 
even  if  it  were  carried  into  the  region  of  the  affections  and 
the  conscience,  could  never  bring  this  great  result  to  pass 
without  the  cooperation  of  the  effective  energies  of  the  wilL, 

§.  227.  Proved  from  the  concealment  of  the  passions  on  sudden 
and  trying  occasions. 

There  are  instances,  where  the  passions  are  repressed,  or 
at  least  concealed,  for  the  purpose  of  forwarding  some  ulteri- 
or end,  which  indicate  the  existence  of  power  in  the  will. 
We  might  perhaps  leave  this  statement  just  as  it  is,  to  be 
filled  up  by  the  private  and  personal  recollections  of  the  rea- 
der. But  history,  which  furnishes  so  many  valuable  exposi- 
tions of  the  passions  and  the  will,  is  not  without  its  striking 
instances  here.  It  is  mentioned  by  those  writers,  who  have 
given  an  account  of  Sylla  the  Roman  dictator,  as  a  marked 
trait  in  his  character,  that  he  was  capable  of  acting  the  dis- 
sembler to  perfection.    He  was  engaged  in  forming  and  ex- 


POWER    OF    THE    WILL.  325 

ecuting  gigantic  plans  for  the  extension  of  the  Roman  em- 
pire, at  the  same  time  that  he  had  formed  other  plans  of  an 
entirely  difierent  character,  and  based  upon  the  most  dread- 
ful passions,  which  he  silently  and  calmly  laid  up  to  be  exe- 
cuted at  some  distant  day.  One  would  have  thought,  that 
his  whold  soul,  (such  was  his  co'nsumraate  ability  in  the 
management  both  of  his  present  designs  and  of  those  pas- 
sions, which  were  afterwards  to  be  indulged,)  was  exclu- 
sively taken  up  v^ith  his  present  business,  and  possessed  no 
thought  or   feeling  for  any  thing  else. 

The  conspirators  against  Julius  Csesar,  after  they  had  ful- 
ly determined  on  his  assassination,  an  event  which  involved 
either  his  death  or  their  own  and  perhaps  both,  were  in  the 
almost  daily  habit  of  meeting  and  transacting  business  with 
him  ;  and  yet  that  wonderful  man  was  utterly  unable  to  de- 
tect in  the  language,  manner,  or  looks  of  the  conspirators 
any  evidence  or  intimations  of  their  atrocious  design. 
Does  not  this  indicate  on  the  part  of  the  conspirators  power 
of  will  ?  Cicero  seems  to  have  been  excluded  from  the  con- 
spiracy, chiefly  because  he  was  supposed  to  be  wanting  in 
that  decision  and  fortitude  of  purpose,  which  was  requisite 
to  the  occasion. 

§.  228.  Further  instances  of  concealment  and  repression  of  the 

passions. 

We  may  go  further  and  say,  that  people  may  not  only 
avail  themselves  of  the  power  of  the  will  to  subdue  their 
passions  or  to  conceal  them,  and  that  in  so  doing  they  prove 
the  existence  of  power  in  the  will ;  but  they  not  unfrequent- 
ly  subdue  them  to  a  certain  point,  letting  them  run  in  certain 
directions  and  not  in  others  ;  or  repressing  them  to  a  certain 
degree,  and  permitting  them  to  rage  below  that  degree. 

An  instance  will  help  to  illustrate  what  we  mean.  The 
author  of  the  Recollections  of  Mirabeau  gives  an  account  of 


336  POWER    OF    THE    WILL. 

a  quarrel,  which  took  place  between  Mirabeau  and  Claviere, 
two  names,  which  must  be  familiar  to  all,  who  are  acquainted 
with  the  events  of  the  French  Revolution. — "A  singular' 
circumstance,  which  struck  me  very  forcibly,  had  called  this 
quarrel  to  my  recollection.  Mirabeau  and  Claviere, 
although  beside  themselves  with  rage,  maintained,  with  re- 
gard to  each  other's  characters,  a  discretion  which  surprised 
me.  I  trembled  every  moment  lest  Claviere  should  utter 
some  taunts  regarding  Mirabeau's  private  conduct,  and  tax 
him  with  meanness  in  pecuniary  matters.  But  although  he  had 
frequently  mentioned  such  things  to  me,  he  was  too  much 
master  of  himself  to  utter  them  now;  whilst  Mirabeau  on  the 
other  hand,  foaming  with  pride  and  anger,  had  still  the  ad- 
dress to  mingle  with  his  invectives  testimonies  of  esteem, 
and  compliments  upon  Claviere's  talents.  Thus  they  scratch- 
ed and  caressed  each  other  with  the  same  hand." The 

same  writer  makes  another  statement  in  regard  to  Mira- 
beau, which  is  applicable  here.  "In  the  tribune  he  was  im- 
movable. *  They  who  have  seen  him  well  know  that  no  agit- 
ation in  the  assembly  had  the  least  effect  upon  him,  and  that 
he  remained  master  of  his  temper  even  under  the  severest 
personal  attacks .  I  once  recollect  to  have  heard  him  make  a 
report  upon  the  city  of  Marseilles.  ,  Each  sentence  was  in- 
terrupted from  the  cole  droit  with  low  abuse  ;  the  words  ca- 
lumniator, liar,  assassin,  and  rascal,  were  very  prodigally 
lavished  upon  him.  On  a  sudden  he  stopped,  and  with  a 
honeyed  accent,  as  if  what  he  had  stated  had  been  most  fa- 
vorably received,  "I  am  waiting,  gentleman,"  said  he,  "until 
the  fine   compliments  you  are  paying  me,  are   exhausted." 

§.  229,  Illustrated  from  the  prosecution  of  some  general  plan. 

We  find  further  illustration  and  proof  of  that  energy 
which  is  appropriate  to  the  will,  in  instances  where  individ- 
uals adopt  and  pursue  for  a  length  of  time  some  general  plan. 


POWER    OF    THE    WILL.  337 

Not  unfrequently  they  fix  upon  an  object,  which  involves 
either  their  interest  or  their  duty,  and  prosecute  it  with  a 
perseverance  and  resolution,  which  is  truly  astonishing. 
Nor  is  this  state  of  things  limited  to  those  who  have  been 
elevated  by  rank,  or  have  had  the  advantages  of  learning. 
It  is  often  the  case,  that  we  see  this  fixedness  of  purpose, 
this  unalterable  resolution,  among  those  who  have  been 
greatlj^  depressed  by  poverty,  and  who  are  ignorant  as  well 
as  poor.     An   instance,   furnished  by  this  class  of  society, 

may  not  be  wholly  unacceptable  to  the  reader. Not  long 

since  there  was  an  account  published  in  the  Newspapers  of 
a  poor  Irish  girl,  who  came  over  to  this  country  from 
Queen's  County  in  Ireland  for  the  purpose  of  making  some 
provision,  and  obtaining  a  situation  of  greater  comfort,  for 
her  depressed  and  suffering  family.  Alone  and  unprotected, 
she  left  the  home  of  her  father  with  only  ten  dollars  in  mon- 
ey; travelled  on  foot  about  fifty  miles  to  the  city  of  Dublin; 
succeeded  in  obtaining  a  passage  on  board  a  vessel  bound 
for  Quebec,  and  ultimately  found  her  way  into  the  United 
States.  It  is  enough  to  add,  although  she  had  to  encounter 
much  trial  and  suffering,  the  smiles  of  a  kind  Providence  re- 
warded her  filial  piety,  and  furnished  the  means  which  soon 
brought  to  her  arms  the  beloved  family  she  had  left  behind. 
Now  here  is  a  case  in  common  life,  without  any  artificial 
aids  and  excitement,  which  can  be  supposed  to  have  sustain- 
ed it;  and  if  we  could  open  and  expose  to  the  view  of  the 
world  the  records  of  the  suffering  and  virtuous  poor,  we 
should  undoubtedly  find  many  like  it.  '^  In  the  obscurity 
of  retirement,  says  the  author  of  Lacon,  amid  the  squalid 
poverty  and  revolting  privations  of  a  cottage,  it  has  often 
been  my  lot  to  witness  scenes  of  magnanimity  and  self-deni* 
al,  as  much  beyond  the  belief,  as  the  practice  of  the  great; 

an  heroism  borrowing  no  support,  either  from  the  gaze  of 
43> 


338  POWER    OF    THE    WILL. 

the  many  or  the  admiratibn  of  the  few,  yet  flourishing  amid 
ruins,  and  on  the  confines  of  the  grave;  a  spectacle  as  stu- 
pendous in  the  moral  world,  as  the  falls  of  Niagara,  in  the 
natural  ;  and,  like  that  mighty  cataract,  doomed  to  display 
its  grandeur,  only  where  there  are  no  eyes  to  appreciate  its 
magnificence."  And  can  we  explain  this  greatness  of  soul, 
this  fixedness  of  purpose,  this  indomitahle  resolution,,  which 
is  displayed  in  every  condition  of  society,  in  humble  as  well 
as  in  elevated  life,  consistently  with  the  supposition  that  the 
will  has  no  power. 

But  there  are  other  facts  of  a  higher  character  and  a 
more  general  interest,  as  they  involve  the  welfare  not  only 
of  individuals  and  families,  but  of  whole  classes  of  men. 
They  are  too  numerous  to  be  mentioned  here;  but  they  are 
recorded,  and  will  long  continue  to  be  so,  in  the  faithful 
register  of  grateful  hearts.  Are  there  not  many  individuals, 
who,  like  the  benevolent  Clarkson,  have  fixed  upon  some 
plan  of  good-will  to  men,  embracing  a  great  variety  and  de- 
gree of  effort,  and  have  pursued  it  amid  every  form  of  trial 
and  opposition  for  years  and  tens  of  years?  The  individual 
just  referred  to  proposed  the  simple  object  of  the  Abolition 
of  the  Slave  Trade.  To  this  one  object  he  consecrated  his 
life  and  all  his  powers.  He  permitted  no  opposition  to  di- 
vert him  from  his  purpose.  But  amid  great  apathy  of  the 
public  mind  and  great  opposition  on  the  part  of  those  who 
were  personally  interested  in  his  defeat;  amid  the  most  ar- 
duous labors,  attended  with  a  thousand  discouragements,  and 
protracted  for  maiiy  years;  in  rebuke  and  sicknes%and  sor- 
row, this  one  object  was  the  star  that  guided  him  on,  th  e 
light  that  sustained  him,  and  which  he  followed  without  giv- 
ing way  to  his  trials  or  relaxing  in  the  least  from  bis  efforts, 
until  it  was  secured. 


POWER    OF    THE    WILL.  339 

§,  230.   The  subject  illustrated  from  the  course  of  the  first 
settlers  ofJYew  England. 

The  course  of  the  first  settlers  of  New  England  is  an  in- 
stance favourable  for  the  illustration  of  the  subject  before 
us.  Their  simple  object  was  to  find  a  residence  somewhere, 
where  they  could  live  in  the  full  and  free  exercise  and  en- 
joyment of  their  religion.  And  this  was  an  object,  which 
under  the  circumstances  of  the  case  was  not  to  be  carried 
into  effect  without  great  fimaness  and  perseverance.  They 
left  behind  them  in  their  native  country  a  thousand  objects 
which  the  world  holds  most  dear;  despised  and  out-cast, 
they  came  to  these  inhospitable  shores,  in  sorrow  and  weak- 
ness and  poverty  ;  they  suffered  from  the  want  of  provis- 
ions, from  the  prevalence  of  -wasting  sickness,  from  the 
storms  and  cold  of  winter,  and  from  the  watchful  jealousy  and 
hostility  of  the  savage  tribes.  Though  sincerely  and  ar- 
dently religious,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  they  had  their  sea- 
sons of  discouragement;  and  often  feared,  and  often  doubt- 
ed. But  when  the  understanding  was  obscured  and  the 
heart  was  fainting,  when  all  without  was  darkness  and  the 
lights  within  burnt  dimly,  when  even  religious  faith,  that 
principle  of  action  more  sacred  as  well  as  more  powerful 
than  all  others,  grew  sickly  and  perplexed,  the  high  pur- 
pose, which  they  had  once  deliberately  and  prayerfully  for- 
med, remained  unchanged  and  unshaken  ;  through  succes- 
sive years  of  suffering  and  sorrow  they  never  permitted 
themselves  to  cast  a  repentant  and  lingering  look  behind; 
with  a  countenance  unmoved  and  a  determination  unalterable 
they  stood  as  it  were  amid  the  billows,  till  the  storm  ceased, 
and  the  sun  of  their  deliverance  arose. 

^,  231.  Illustrated  by  the  fortitude  exhibited  by  Savages, 

We  might  go  on   multiplying  illustrations  of  this   sub« 


340  POWER    OF    THE    WILL. 

ject  almost  without  number;  drawn  too  from  every  class  of 
men,  and  from  every  condition  of  society,  savage  as  well  as 
civilized.     It  might  perhaps  be   said  with  some   appearance 
of  plausibility,  that  the  case  of  the  first  settlers  of  New  Eng- 
land is  an  exempt  one;  that  thej^  were   sustained,  (at  least 
such  was  the  case  with   their  leaders,)  by  the  combined  ad- 
vantages of  civilization,  education,  and  religion.     But  mul- 
titudes of  other  men,  of  whom  this  could  not  be  said,  have  ex- 
hibited the  same  unshaken  energy  of  the  will.     Look  yon- 
der into  that  dark  and  boundless  forest;  behold,  beneath  the 
light  of  the  uncertain  and  shuddering  moon,  the  fire  kindled, 
which  is  destined   to  consume  the  victim  taken  in  war  ;  see 
him  fastened  to  the  stake,  his  flesh   slowly  consumed,  and, 
as  it  is  burning,  torn    piece-meal  from  his  blackened  bones. 
What  inexpressible   suffering  !     And  yet   this  dark   son  of 
the    forest,  this  poor  ignorant   child   of  nature  betrays  no 
weakness  of  purpose,  sheds  no  tear,   utters   no  exclamation 
of  impatience,  does  not  even  move  a  muscle.     His  thoughts 
are  upon  "his   distant  wigwam,  upon  his  wife    and  children, 
upon  the  glory  of  his  forefathers,  upon  the  good  name  of  his 
tribe  of  the  lakes  and  the  mountains,  and  upon  that  far  land 
unseen,  beyond  the  cloud-topt  hill, 

"  And  thinks,  admitted  to  that  equal  sky 
*'  His  faithful  dog  shall  bear  him  company. 

Here  are  the  facts,  which  are  presented  before  us  ;  not 
all  indeed,  which  can  be  brought  forward,  and  perhaps  they 
are  not  tbose  which  are  best  adapted  to  our  purpose.  But 
such  a^  they  are,  they  are  undeniable.  They  are  inscribed 
on  every  page  of  the  history  of  the  human  race.  And  we 
may  challenge  philosophy  or  anything  else,  satisfactorily  to 
explain  them,  except  on  the  ground  of  the  innate  energy, 
not  merely  of  the  mind  as  a  whole,  but  of  the  voluntary  fac- 
ulty in  particular. 


CHAPTER  THIRD. 


SELF-DETERMINING  POWER  OF  THE  WILL. 


§.  232.    General  remarks  on  a  self-determining  potoer. 

But  admitting  all  that  has  been  said,  and  freely  granting 
that  there  is  a  true  and  substantive  power  in  the  will,  the 
inquiry  may  still  remain,  what  is  the  nature  of  this  power  ? 
On  this  particular  topic  we  take  the  liberty  to  refer  the  rea- 
der to  the  remarks  which  have  already  been  made  on  the 
nature  of  power,  considered  as  applicable  to  and  as  an  at- 
tribute of  the  mind  in  general.  Those  remarks  are  not  less 
applicable  to  the  parts  of  the  mind,  than  they  are  to  the 
mind  considered  as  a  whole.  They  do  not  appear,  however, 
to  reach  one  question,  which  has  been  the  subject  of  much 
inquiry  and  interest,  viz,  the  self-determining  power  of  the  ivilly 
as  it  is  termed.  This  question,  therefore,  is  entitled  to  a 
brief  notic6. 

^,233.   Of  a  self-determining  power  of  the  mind. 

In  endeavouring  to  answer  the  inquiry,  whether  the  will 
has  a  self-determijiing  power,  we  remark,  in  the   first  place, 

that  we  must  attend  carefully  to  the  import  of  the  terms. 

If,  for  instance,  by  the   self-determining    power  of  the  will 


342  SELF-DETERMINING 

be  meant  the  self  determining  power  of  the  mind,  consider- 
ed as  a  whole,  we  may  grant  that  there  is  such  a  power  un- 
der the  circumstances,  in  which  we  actually  exist.  Under 
these  circumstances  it  is  unavoidable,  that  the  understanding 
or  intellect  should  be  more  or  less  developed.  Thought  is 
necessarily  incident  to  the  nature  of  the  mind,  when  objects 
of  thought  are  brought  within  its  reach.  And  as  in  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  we  are  placed,  such  objects  exist  all 
around  it,  the  intellect  or  understanding  always  expands 
and  grasps  them;  and  we  may  add  that  it  expands  and  makes 
them  the  subject  of  knowledge  by  its  own  power.  The  mind 
is  so  constituted,  that  the  developement  of  the  intellect  is 
always  followed  by  the  expansion  and  exercise,  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree,  of  the  sensibilities;  that  is  to  say,  of  the  de- 
sires, emotions,  and  feelings  of  moral  obligation.  And  in  this 
state  of  things  we  have  an  adequate  and  ample  basis  for  the 
action  of  the  will.  So  that  we  may  undoubtedly  admit,  and 
may  assert  with  entire  truth,  that  the  mind,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  we  are  placed,  possesses  what  may  be 
called,  (although  there  is  certainly  no  peculiar  felicity  in  the 
expression,)  a  self-determining  power.  It  perceives,  and  it 
feels,  and  it  wills  of  itself .  In  each  case  there  is  power,  sub- 
ject, however,  as  we  should  always  keep  in  mind,  to  condi- 
tions. Having  the  power  to  will,  it  wills,  because  it  feels  ; 
having  the  power  to  feel,  it  feels,  because  it  perceives  ;  and 
having  the  power  to  perceive,  it  perceives,  because  objects  of 
perception  are  involved  in  the  circumstances  in  which  it  is 
placed.  .Under  these  circumstances,  therefore,  the  mind  acts 
of  itself  or  has  a  self-determining  power. 

The  antecedence  of  feelings,  or  in  other  words  of  mo- 
tives, constitutes  the  condition  of  volitions;  and  the  antece- 
dence of  perceptions  or  intellections  constitutes  the  condi- 
tion of  feelings;  and  the  antecedence,  (that  is  to  say,  the  ex- 
istence ^^nd  presence,)  of  objects   of  perception  constitutes 


POWER    OF    THE    WILL.  343 

the  condition  of  perceptions.  But  these  conditions  or  inci- 
dents to  the  mind's  action  are  not  withholden,  but  are  alrea- 
dy given;  and  the  field  is  fully  open  for  the  exercise  of  all 
those  powers  it  possesses. 

§.  234.    Of  a  self-determining  power  of  the  will. 

In  the  second  place,  if,  by  the  phrase  self-determining 
power  of  the  will,  be  merely  meant  that  the  will  itself,  that 
distinct  susceptibility  of  the  mind  which  we  thus  denomi- 
inate,  has  power,  we  grant  that  it  is  so.— We  have  already 
seen,  that  the  mind,  considered  as  a  whole,  has  power.  In 
this  sense,  as  well  as  in  others,  the  mind  is  created  in  the 
image  of  God.  And  wherever  else  that  power  may  be  lodg- 
ed, it  has  its  residence  peculiarly  in  the  mental  susceptibili- 
ty, which  we  denominate  the  will.  That  the  will,  therefore, 
has  of  itself  to  a  certain  extent,  and  within  the  limits  and  un- 
der the  conditions  which  its  Maker  has  assigned  to  it,  the 
capability  of  movement  or  action;  in  other  words,  that  it 
doesof  itself  act,  arbitrate,  determine,  or  decide  in  the  cir- 
cumstances appropriate  to  its  action,  we  do  not  deny;  but 
on  the  contrary  admit  and  affirm  it  to  be  so.  So  far  it  is  not 
necessary  to  contend. 

§.  235.   Of  such  a  self-determining  power  of  the  will  as  involves 
the  dependence  of  the  present  volition  on  a  former  one. 

But  if,  (as  is  sometimes  understood  by  those  expressions,) 
"by  the  phrase  self-determining  power  of  the  will,  is  meant  a 
power,  in  virtue  of  which  the  will  acts  in  order  to  determine 
its  own  action,  then  we  may  confidently  assert,  that  the 
proposition,  which  alleges  the  existence  of  such  self-deter- 
mining power,  involves  what  is  obviously  contradictory  and 
absurd.  The  reader  is  requested  to  notice  the  manner,  in 
which  the  terms  in  question  are  understood  by  us  in  the  re- 
marks, which  are  now  to  be  made.     We  understand  the  on- 


241  SELF-DETERMINING 

ly  remaining  meaning  of  the  phrase,  self-determining  pow- 
er of  the  will,  to  be  this,  viz.  that  in  virtue  of  the  will's 
power  every  volition  is  preceded  by  another  well-defined 
act  of  the  will,  and  in  such  a  way  that  such  volition  could 
not  have  existed  without  the  preceding  act;  in  other  words, 
that  the  will,  in  the  exercise  or  by  the  actio7t  of  its  self-deter- 
mining power,  causes  or  brings  to  pass  the  voluntary  state 
of  the  mind  or  volition  ;  a  form  of  expression,  which  evi- 
dently and  necessarily  implies  an  act  of  the  will,  antecedent  to 
volition. — This  doctrine,  so  far  as  we  are  able  to  form  a  judg- 
ment of  it,  seems  to  be  in  itself  exceedingly  absurd  and  even 
inconceivable.  If  every  volition  is  based  upon  a  preceding 
act  of  the  will  as  the  condition  of  its  existence,  may  we  not 
with  propriety  and  with  pertinence  ask,  what  causes  this 
preceding  act?  And  we  must  be  told  again,  (for  we  know 
of  no  other  possible  answer,)  it  is  the  wilPs  self-determin- 
ing power ;  an  explanation  which  obviously  implies  an  act 
existing  anterior  to  the  before-mentioned  antecedent  act. 
And  thus  on  this  system,  we  should  be  obliged  to  go  on 
from  one  step  to  another,  from  the  volition  which  is  the  im- 
mediate antecedent  of  the  outward  action  to  another  voli- 
tion which  is  the  antecedent  and  the  cause  of  that,  and  then 
again  to  another  still  antecedent  volition;  and  so  on  with- 
out end.  A  self-determining  power,  therefore,  in  the  sense 
which  we  now  suppose  to  be  contended  for,  implies  a  per- 
petual going  round  and  round,  a  movement  in  a  circle  with- 
out any  end.  So  far  from  giving  power  to  the  will  in  any 
special  and  extraordinary  sense,  the  doctrine  in  question 
deprives  it  of  all  power;  it  makes  it  a  mere  automaton,  with 
a  mechanism  indeed,  capable  of  generating  a  series  of  per- 
petual motions;  but  which  motions  have  no  perceptible, 
nor  even  conceivable  beginning  or  termination. 


POWER    OF    THE    WILL.  '      345 

§.  236,   Opinions  of  President  Edwards  on  this  subject. 

Upon  this  particular  view  of  the  subject  now  before  us,we 
take  the  liberty  of  appealing  to  the  statements  of  President 
Edwards;  and  we  do  not  know,  that  any  thing  can  profitably 
be  added  to  what  he  has  said.  We  have  already  in  the  pre- 
ceding section  given  the  substance  of  some  of  his  remarks, 
but  the  reader  is  entitled  to  his  own  words.  "  If  the  will 
determines  the  will,  then  choice  orders  and  determines  the 
choice;  and  acts  of  choice  are  subject  to  the  decision,  and 
follow  the  conduct  of  other  acts  of  choice.  And  therefore 
if  the  will  determines  all  its  own  free  acts,  then  every  free 
act  of  choice  is  determined  by  a  preceding  act  of  choice 
choosing  that  act.  And  if  that  preceding  act  of  the  will  or 
choice  be  also  a  free  act,  then  by  these  principles,  in  this  act 
too,  the  will  is  self-determined:  that  is,  this,  in  like  manner, 
is  an  act  that  the  soul  voluntarily  chooses  ;  or  which  is  the 
same  thing,  it  is  an  act  determined  still  by  a  preceding  act 
of  the  will,  choosing  that.  And  the  like  may  again  be  obser- 
ved of  the  last  mentioned  act.  Which  brings  us  directly 
to  a  contradiction :  for  it  supposes  an  act  of  the  will  prece- 
ding the  first  act  in  the  whole  train,  directing  and  determin- 
ing the  rest;  or  a  free  act  of  the  will,  before  the  first  free 
act  ot  the  will."* 

♦Edward's  Inquiry  into  the  Will,  Pt,  11,  §.1. 


4''4 


CHAPTER  FOURTH. 


DIFFERENCES  OF  VOLUNTARY  PdWER. 


§.  237.  Differences  in  voluntary  power  seldom  noticed. 

There  is  one  aspect,  in  which  this  subject  remains  to  be 
contemplated,  which  may  tend  to  throw  some  light  on  what 
has  already  been  stated  under  the  general  head  of  Power  of 
the  Will;  we  refer  to  difperEx^^ces  of  voluntary  power. 
This  is  a  view  of  the  human,  mind,  which  has  seldom,  owing 
perhaps  to  erroneous  or  indistinct  views  on  the  whole  sub- 
ject of  mental  power,  received  that  attention  to  which  it  ap- 
pears to  be  entitled.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  hear  re- 
marks made  upon  differences  of  strength  in  the  passions  of 
men,  or  in  their  faculties  of  perception  and  reasoning,  but  it 
is  exceedingly  seldom,  that  we  notice  any  thing  said  in  ex- 
planation of  differences  in  the  capability  of  the  will.  But 
if  there  is  truly  a  power,  an  original  and  substantive  effi- 
ciency, lodged  in  the  will,  it  is  certainly  a  natural  presump- 
tion, that  we  should  find  degrees  and  diversities  in  this 
power,  not  less  than  in  any  other  ability  of  the  mind.  And 
facts,  which  are  constantly  presented  to  our  notice 3  show 
this  to  be  the  case. 


DIFFERENCES    OP    VOLUNTARY    POWER.    347 

§.  238.  Remarks  on  constitutional  weakness  of  the  will. 

'  If  we  will  take  the  trouble  to  examine  the  characters  of 
men,  as  we  .find  them  developed  more  or  less  in  the  pursuits 
of  life,  we  shall  not  fail  to  find  some,  who  exhibit,  not 
occasionally  merely  but  as  a  general  thing  and  as  a  perma- 
nent trait  of  mind,  a  feebleness  of  resolution,  a  sort  of  va- 
cillancy,  a  continual  oscillation,  if  one  may  be  allowed  the 
expression,  between  one  thing  and  another.  No  argu- 
ments, no  motives,  no  considerations  of  interest,  duty,  or 
glory  are  able  permanently  to  countervail  and  prop  up  this 
inherent  weakness.  They  may  indeed  sustain  it  for  a  time; 
the  imbecillity  of  purpose,  which  marks  the  history  of  these 
persons,  may  not  always  be  discoverable  in  the  ordinary 
circumstances  of  life,  especially  when  the  will  is  supported 
by  considerations  suitable  to  give  it  strength;  but  in  the 
onset  of  perilous  circumstances,  in  the  close  pressure  of  por- 
tentous danger,  in  sudden  and  fearful  emergencies  of  any 
kind  whatever,  instead  of  standing  erect  and  immoveable, 
they  are  overwhelmed  and  driven  away,  ''  like  the  heath  in 
the  desert."  And  if  this  statement  is  correct,  it  certainly 
presents  an  important  aspect  in  the  developements  of  human 
nature. 

We  do  not  gather  grapes  of  thorns,  nor  figs  of  thistles; 
we  do  not  expect  the  blind  to  see, 'the  lame  to  walk  erect, 
or  the  deaf  to  hear;  we  do  not  feel  at  liberty  to  require  of 
a  man,  who  se  intellect  is  obviously  incompetent  to  the  task 
of  combining  more  than  half  a  dozen  propositions,  the  pro- 
duction of  a  Sp  irit  of  Laws,  a  Principia,or  Mecanique  Celes- 
te; and  it  would  be  almost  as  unreasonable,  however  useful 
they  may  be  in  other  situations  more  adapted  to  their  pecu- 
liarities of  mental  organization,  to  expect  from  such  persons 
a  course  of  perseverance,  fortitude,  and  daring.     If  no  one 


348  DIFFERENCES    OF 

is  answerable  for  a  greater  number  of  talents  than  are  given 
him,  and  if  in  the  case  of  particular  individuals  the  Almighty 
dispenser  of  menial  gifts  has  seen  fit  to  assign  those  talents 
to  the  intellect  rather  than  the  will,  the  requisition  should  be 
made,  not  only  in  conformity  with  the  amount  which  has 
been  given,  but  with  reference  also  to  the  place  of  deposit. 
We  may  impose  upon  such  persons  a  heavy  burden  of 
thought;  but  must  be  less  exorbitant  in  our  requisitions  on 
their  resolves  and  action  in  those  difficult  and  pressing  emer- 
gencies, which  obviously  require  the  interposition  of  men  of 
a  different  stamp. 

§.  239.   Of  comparative  or  relative  weakness  of  the  will. 

There  is  an  apparent,  and  to  all  practical  purposes,  an  ac- 
tual weakness  of  the  will,  which,  when  we  fully  consider  its 
nature,  may  properly  be  termed  comparative  or  relative. 
We  may  explain  it  thus.  The  individual  is  not  wanting  in 
voluntary  decision  and  energy,  if  the  will  be  considered  in 
itself  and  disconnected  from  other  parts  of  the  mental 
constitution.  So  far  from  this,  it  may  perhaps  be  said 
with  truth,  that  voluntary  energy  is  naturally  a  leading 
trait  and  characteristic  of  the  persons  now  referred  to.  And 
yet  the  will  does  not  fully  perform  the  office  of  a  controlling 
power;  it  does  not  act  up  to  the  standard  of  its  own  capa- 
bilities ;  the  individual  is  often  vascillating  \n  his  conduct, 
even  in  those  cases  where  he  acts  with  vigor;  so  much  so, 
that,  even  with  great  confidence  in  his  good  intentions,  we 
do  not  place  full  reliance  on  his  future  conduct.  And  the 
cause  is  to  be  attributed  not  so  much,  as  has  been  remarked, 
to  any  weakness  in  the  will,  in  itself  considered^  as  to  the 
want  of  proportion  between  that  and  other  parts  of  the  mind. 
In  other  words,  the  passions  have  become  predominant;  an 
Inflammatory  violence  has  been  infused  into  them  by  nature 
or  by  accidental  circumstances;  and  the  will,  whatever  may 


VOLUNTARY    POWER.  349 

have  been  its  original  vigour,  has  become  subordinate  in  its 

influence. Have  we  not  an  illustration  of  these  statements 

in  the  life  of  the  Scottish  poet  Burns?  It  is  undeniable,  that 
he  naturally  possessed  more  vigour  of  purpose,  more  energy 
of  resolve  than  many  other  person^;  but  such  was  the  inor- 
dinate intensity  of  his  passions,  that  the  power  of  his  will 
was  relatively  weak;  it  could  not  withstand  and  control  those 
internal  tempests,  to  which  he  was  subject. 

§.  240.  Instances  of  want  of  energy  of  the  will. 

Having  made  these  general  statements  concerning  weak- 
ness or  inefficiency  of  the  will,  (both  that  which  is  original 
or  natural,  and  that  which  is  relative  and  depends  upon  the 
inordinate  strength  of  some  parts  of  our  sentient  or  emotive 
nature,)  we  now  proceed  to  give  some  further  instances  of 
that  want  of  voluntary  energy  which  has  been  spoken  of. 
Do  we  not  often  discover  a  defect  of  this  kind  in  men  in 
public  life?  How  many  instances  are  recorded  in  history,  of 
men,  who  have  been  thrown  upon  the  stormy  ocean  of  poli- 
tics, fitted  with  every  capability  for  such  a  situation  with 
the  exception  of  voluntary  energy;  but  who,  burdened  with 
this  single  defect,  have  at  last  gone  down,  and  been  over- 
whelmed in  the  billows!  Was  not  the  preeminent  mind  of 
Tully,  capable  as  it  was  of  penetrating  all  the  mazes  of  phi- 
losophy and  of  embracing  all  the  heights  and  depths  of  civil 
and  public  law,  greatly  wanting  in  decision,  in  energy,  in 
the  firm  and  unshaken  resolve?  Although  unspeakably  in 
the  advance  in  other  respects,  would  it  not  in  this  particu- 
lar suffer  in  comparison  with  the  energetic  purpose  of  Bru- 
tus and  the  Caesars? There  is   a   name  of  no  small  note 

in  English  history,  which  is  naturally  brought  to  recollection 
in  connection  with  these  views,  as  an  instance  of  versatility 
founded  not  so  much  upon  incapacity  of  the  understanding, 
as   upon   imbecility  and.  changeableness   of  the  will.     We 


360  DIFFERENCES     OF 

refer  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  figured  so  conspicu- 
ously in  the  reign  of  Charles  II,  and  whom  the  pen  of  Dry- 
den  has  rendered  so  celebrated  under  the  feigned  name  of 
Zimri.  •.         . 

**  Some  of  their  chiefs  were  princes  of  the  land, 
•'  In  the  first  rank  of  these  did  Zimri  stand  ; 
**  A  man  so  various  that  he  seemed  to  be 
*«  Not  one,  but  all  mankind's  epitome  ; 
*'  StifFin  opinions,  always  in  the  wrong  ; 
"  Was  every  thing  by  starts,  and  nothing  long  ; 
"  But,  in  the  course  of  one  revolving  moon,- 
*'  Was  chemist,  fiddler,  statesman,  and  buffoon. 

Some  of  the  prominent  leaders  in  the  French  Revolution, 
that  remarkable  period  of  political   tempest,  showed  them- 
selves unequal  to   the    occasion,  and  were   overwhelmed  in 
the  convulsions  which  they  contributed  to  arouse,  but  were 
unable  to  control.     Were  not  the  ministers  Necker  and  Ro- 
land, whose  relations  to  that  memorable  event  are  too  well 
known  to   require  a  recital,  instances  and  proofs  of  this  re- 
mark?    Of  Claviere  also,  one  of  the  associates  of  Roland,  it 
was  remarked  by  Mirabeau,  who  was  intimately  acquainted 
with  him,  that   "  he  was  a  man  in  head,  and  a  child  in  heart; 
that  he  always  wanted  a  regulator;  and  that  left  to  himself, 
he  never  ceased  to  vary."     Of  De  Graves,  the  successor  of 
Narbonne,  and  who  was  required,  in  consequence  of  his  sit- 
uation and  age,  to  furnish  the  list  of  the  Roland  ministry,  it 
is  said  by  a  writer  already  repeatedly  referred  to,  that  "  no 
man  was  less  qualified  to  take  a  part  in  a  stormy  administration. 
He  was  an  honest  man,and  his  heart  was  good;  he  was  a  stran- 
ger to  all  party  feeling, but  was  weak  both  in  body  and  mind; 
he  was  not  deficient  in  acquirements  and  laboured  hard;  but  he 
wanted  energy  of  character  and  a  firm  loill   of  his  oti>n."* — The 
mere  possession  of  intellectual  power  is   not  enongh  to  fit  a 

♦Dumont's  Recollections  of  Mirabeau,  Chaps.  15,  19. 


VOLUNTARY    POWER.  §51 

person  to  take  a  leading  part  in  the  government  of  a  nation; 
but  it  is  necessary  that  he  should  add  to  distinguished  pow- 
ers of  perception  and  reasoning  a  corresponding  energy  of 
the  will.  How  many,  in  consequence  of  not  possessing 
powers  of  the  will  commensurate  with  those  of  the  under- 
standing, have  become  giddy  on  the  pinnacle  of  their  eleva- 
tion, and  have  arisen  only  to  fall! 

<5 .  241  .Remarks  on  great  strength  of  the  will,    , 

But  there  are  instances  of  a  different  kind  from  those 
which  have  just  been  mentioned  ;  instances,  so  far  from 
weakness,  that  we  clearly  discover  in  them  remarkable  pow- 
er of  the  will.  It  Cannot  be  doubted,  that,  among  the  vari- 
ous elements,  which  constitute  whatever  is  great  and  admi- 
rable in  man,  we  find  one  here,  viz,  in  marked  decision  and 
vigour  of  the  will.  If,  in  some  cases,  the  will  seems  hardly 
to  have  an  existence;  in  others  it  exhibits  a  transcendent  de- 
gree of  energy.  There  have  been  men,  who,  in  danger  and 
suffering,  have  shown  a  vigour,  that  was  calculated  to  ex- 
cite the  strongest  emotions;  who  have  been  inflexible,  while 
others  have  been  changed  with  every  yaiying  breeze  y  and 
have  possessed  themselves  in  stability  and  calmness,  while 
many  around  them  have  been  shaken  in  their  resolutions, 
and  disquieted  with  fears.  Of  this  marked  decision  and  en- 
ergy of  the  will,  we  now  proceed  to  give  some  illustrations. 

§.  242.  Energy  of  the  will  as  displayed  under  bodily  sufferings 

When  occupied  with  the  general  subject  of  the  power  of 
the  will,  we  had  occasion  to  make  the  remark,  that  the  pa- 
tience, which  was  not  unfrequentVy  exhibited  in  circumstan- 
ces of  bodily  suffering,  indicated  the  existence  of  such  pow- 
er in  a  greater  or  less  degree.  We  might  with  propriety 
appeal  to  instances  of  the  same  kind  in  order  to  show,  with 
what  varieties  of  intensity  the  voluntary  power  is  dispensed 


352  DIFFERENCES    OF 

to  different  individuals.  It  is  often  said,  however,  when  we 
refer  to  cases  of  this  kind,  that  men  will  calmly  endure  al- 
most any  thing  when  they  cannot  help  it.  But  in  answer  to 
this  suggestion  it  is  enough  to  say,  that  there  are  cases 
wrhere  men  suffer  by  their  own  act,  and  their  own  choice  ; 
and  not  merely  in  a  slight  manner,  but  in  the  highest  degree. 
— Plutarch  relates  an  incident  in  the,  life  of  the  celebrated 
Marius,  which  will  tend  to  show  what  we  mean.  This  extra- 
ordinary man  had  bqth  his  legs  covered  with  wens,  and  being 
troubled  with  the  deformity,  he  determined  to  put  himself 
into  the  hands  of  a  surgeon.  Confident  in  his  own  energy 
of  mind,  he  would  not  be  bound, .but  stretched  out  one  of  his 
legs  to  the  knife  ;  and  without  a  motion  or  groan,  bore  the 
inexpressible  pain  of  the  operation  in  silence  and  with  a 
settled  countenance.  The  story  of  Mutius  Scaevola  also 
shows  us  what  astonishing  powers  of  will  our  Maker  has 
seen  fit  to  dispense  to  some  persons.  When  required  by 
Porsena  to  explain  certain  intimations  of  danger  which  he 
had  obscurely  thrown  out,  and  being  threatened  with  ex- 
treme suffering  in  case  of  a  refusal,  he  calmly  thrust  his 
right  hand  into  a  fire,  which  had  been  kindled  for  the  pur- 
pose of  a  sacrifice,  and  steadily  held  it  there  burning  in  the 
flames,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  giving  Porsena  to  understand, 
that  he  was  not  a  person  to  be  influenced  by  fear,  or  intimi- 
dated by  suflfering. Is  not  this  to  be  regarded  as  a  deci- 
sive and  remarkable  instance  of  voluntary  energy;  showing 
most  clearly,  that,  while  power  is  truly  and  emphatically  ap- 
propriate to  the  will,  it  does  not  exist  in  all  persons  in  an 
equal  degree,  but  is  conferred  more  »ichly  on  some  than  on 
others  ? 

There  is  a  similar  instance  in  the  life  of  Archbishop 
Cranmer.  In  an  unguarded  and  unhappy  hour  he  had  sub- 
scribed to  doctrines  which  he  did  not  believe;  an  act,  which 
he  afterwards  deeply  repented  of  as  the  greatest  miscarriage 


■rv^ 


VOLUNTAEY    POWER.  353 

of  his  life.  And  when  he  was  subsequently  led  to  the  stake, 
he  stretched  out  the  hand  which  had  been  the  instrument  in 
this  false  and  discreditable  subscription,  and,  without  be- 
traying, either  by  his  countenance  or  motions,  the  least 
sign  of  weakness  or  even  of  feeling,  (such  are  the  very 
words  of  the  historian,)  he  held  it  in  the  flames,  till  it  was 
entirely  consumed. 

§.  243.  Energy  oj  the  will  as  shown  in  imminent  danger. 

Diversities  in  the  strength  and  energy  of  the  voluntary 
faculty   are   clearly  seen   in  all  cases  of  imminent   danger, 
particularly  danger  of  death.     The  fear  of  death  is  as  natur- 
al to  man  as  the  love    of  life ;  and  but  few  men  can  be  sud- 
denly exposed  to  death)  especially  if  it  appear  to  be  inevita- 
ble,without  experiencing  a  shrinking  back  from  it.     We  find 
some  persons,  however,  who  have  such  energy  of  purpose, 
such  remarkable  decision  and  firmness,  that  they  meet  it,  not 
merely  as  it  comes  in  the  milder  arrangements  of  Providence, 
but  in  its   most  horrid  and  violent  forms,  with  entire  calm- 
ness, and  even  seek  it  as  something  desirable.     The  Roman 
Decii   voluntarily   devoted   themselves   to   death   for  their 
country.     Regulus,  when  he  had  been  made  a  prisoner  by  the 
Carthaginians,  of  his  own  accord  took  a  course,  safe  and 
honourable  as  he  supposed  for  Rome  ;  but  which  he  clearly 
foresaw,  (and  the  result  even  more  than  realized  his  anticipa- 
tions,) would  be  attended  with  extreme  cruelty  &  destruction 
to  himself.  In  the  dreadful  wars  of  modern  times,  which  have 
carried  sorrow  and  desolation  over  Europe  and  America,  how 
often  have  we  heard  of  deeds  and  enterprises  of  valour,  which 
have  excited  our  admiration  in  view  of  the  wonderful  energy 
of  purpose  they  have  displayed,  at  the   same  time  that  we 
deeply  lamented   the  occasions   that  called  them  forth.     In 
the  war  of  La  Vendee  the  celebrated  I^Ieber  called  an  officer 
45 


354  DIFFERENCES    OF 

to  him,  for  whom  he  had  a  particular  esteem  and  friendship. 
"  Take,  said  he  to  his  military  friend,  a  company  of  grena- 
diers; stop  the  enemy  hefore  that  ravine;  you  will  be  kil- 
led, hut  you  will  save  your  comrades.''  I  shall  do  it, 
General,  replied  the  officer,  with  as  much  calmness  as  if  he 
had  been  required  to  perform  a  simple  military  evolution. 
He  fulfilled  his  word,  and  arrested  the  enemy's  progress; 
but  perished  in  the  achievement. 

But  it  is  not  the  soldier  alone,  who  has  exhibited  this  en- 
ergy of  purpose  amid  the  imminent  danger  of  death.  Not 
unfrequently  have  the  philanthropist  and  the  Christian  Mis- 
sionary placed  themselves  in  situations,  where  extreme  suf- 
fering and  even  death  itself  seemed  to  be  inevitable.  They 
have  not  only  had  the  resolution  to  leave  their  country  and 
home ;  hut  to  plunge  into  dungeons,  to  walk  on  their  errands 
of  mercy  amid  pestilential  atmospheres,  to  wander  through 
pathless  forests  and  over  burning  sands  and  precipitous 
mountains,  to  endure  the  privations  of  cold  and  hunger  and  na- 
kedness, and  to  encounter  the  ferocious  Savage  with  his  wea- 
pons of  destruction  extended  against  them.  How  many  could 
say  with  !he  Apostle  Paul,that  first  and  most  devoted  of  mis- 
sionaries, "  in  journeyings  often,  in  perils  of  waters,  in  per- 
ils of  robbers,  in  perils  by  the  heathen,  in  perils  in  the  city, 
in  perils  in  the  wilderness,  in  perils  in  the  sea!  "  Unaltera- 
bly fixed  in  their  purpose  amid  present  sufifering  and  the 
sure  anticipation  of  future  and  greater  woes,  they  have  of- 
ten exhibited  a  wonderful  heroism,  not  indeed  in  the  cause 
of  war  and  its  attendant  devastations,  but  for  the  sake  of 
renovating  the  sensibilities,  and  soothing  the  countless  mis- 
eries of  their  fellow -men.  In  the  boundless  forests  of  North 
and  South  America,  on  the  shores  of  the  Nile  and  the  Gan- 
ges and  on  the  banks  of  solitary  streams  unknown  to  civil- 
ized man,  in  frozen  Greenland  and  the  burning  sands  of  Af- 
rica, in  the  distant  islands  of  the  sea,  amid  the  wretched 


VOLUNTARY    POWER.  355 

hamlets  of  the  dreary  Alps,  wherever  there  is  ignorance  to 
be  enlightened  or  sorrow  to  be  soothed  or  souls  to  be  saved, 
their  astonishing  labours  of  benevolence  have  been  witnes- 
sed, and  their  names  will  be  held  in  veneration  down  to  the 
latest  ages. 

§.  244.  Energy  of  the  will  as  shown  in  martyrdoms. 

Diversities  in  the  power  of  the  will  are  quickly  discov- 
ered, not  only  in  the  situations  just  referred  to,  of  exposure 
to  imminent  danger,  but  in  all  extraordinary  and  trying  sit- 
uations whatever.  Whenever  we  open  a  book  of  war,  of 
famine,  of  pestilence,  or  of  martyrdoms,  and  read  in  it  the 
conduct  of  men  under  these  terrible  inflictions,  we  open. and 
read  a  new  and  most  interesting  chapter  in  the  philosophy 
of  the  human  mind.  We  venture  to  say,  that  not  only  the 
history  of  civil  convulsions  and  wars  and  revolutions,  but 
also  such  a  Book  as  Fox's  History  of  Christian  Martyrdom 
will  afford  matter  of  comment  and  reference  to  the  mental 
philosopher.  If,  without  such  a  work  as  the  last  mentioned,we 
should  have  known  less  of  the  depravity  and  dreadful  cruelty 
of  human  nature,  we  should  also  have  known  less  of  its  truth, 
its  honour,  its  submission,  and  its  immense  resources  of  en- 
durance and  energy.  It  is  impossible  for  a  person  to  read 
the  history  of  Martyrdoms,  without  entertaining  a  deep  re- 
gard and  admiration  for  the  sufferers,  founded  not  merely 
upon  considerations  connected  with  the  cause  of  their  suflfer- 
ings  and  death;  but  also  upon  the  moral  sublimity  of  their 
fixed  and  immutable  resolve.  On  what  principle  can  it  be 
explained,  that  men  and  even  delicate  and  feeble  women 
have  endured  the  rack,  the  screw,  the  dungeon,  and  the  fire 
without  complaint  and  even  with  triumph.?  It  may  indeed 
be  said,  and  said  with  truth,  that  they  were  supported  by 
religious  faith  and  hope.  But  can  it  be  said  with  truth  of 
those,who  were  not  only  thus  supported  but  were  thus  suppor- 


356  DIFFERENCES    OF 

ted  in  an  equal  degree,  that  they  all  died  \yilh  equal  calm- 
ness and  fortitude?  Although  none  of  those  holy  sufferers 
doubted,  that  God  would  be  their  portion  at  last  and  would 
bestow  upon  them  the  crown  and  the  mansions  of  the  blest, 
yet  could  they  all  smile  and  rejoice  amid  the  flames?  They 
were  all  submissive  and  patient;  but  could  they  all  as- 
sume the  aspect  of  utter  indifference  to  their  tortures? 
We  may  rest  assured,  that  the  cases  of  marked  and  decisive 
triumph  over  bodily  suffering  were  for  the  most  part  those 
of  persons,  who  possessed  an  original  and  innate  energy  of 
the  will.  It  is  true  that  they  wete  enabled  to  endure  a 
great  increase  of  suffering  with  the  aids  of  religion;  but 
they  were,  for  the  most  part,  persons,  who  could  have  firm- 
ly and  triumphantly  endured  much  suffering  without  it.  It 
was  this  combination  of  original  energy  of  character  with 
the  blessed  aids  of  religion,  that  supported  Jerome  of  Prague, 
who  sung  hymns  as  he  went  to  the  place  of  execution,  em- 
braced the  stake  with  cheerfulness,  and  when  the  execution- 
er went  behind  him  to  set  fire  to  the  faggots,  exclaimed, 
"Come  here  and  kindle  it  before  my  eyes;  for  had  I  been 
afraid  of  it,  I  had  not  come  here,  having  had  so  many  oppor- 
tunities to  escape." 

§.  245.   Subject  illustrated  from  two  classes  of  public  speakers. 

In  this  connection  we  are  naturally  led  to  make  the  re- 
mark, that  there  are  not  only  some  situations,  but  some  arts 
and  callings  in  life,  in  which  a  high  degree  of  decision  and 
energy  of  the  will  is  absolutely  necessary  to  success. 
Among  other  arts,  (we  do  not  propose  to  mention  all  of 
them  where  this  trait  seems  to  be  especially  requisite,)  a 
high  degree  of  voluntary  energy  is  exceedingly  important 
to  that  of  the  orator.  And  we  are  here  furnished  with 
grounds  of  distinction  and  comparison  between  men  of  elo- 
quence.    There  are   some  public  speakers,  who  greatly  fail 


VOLUNTARY    POWER.  357 

in  efficiency  of  the  will.  Possessed  of  intellectual  powers, 
that  command  the  admiration  of  all,  they  are  still  acknowl- 
edged to  have  a  weak  point  here.  When  they  arise  to  speak 
in  public,  they  have  a  clear  perception  of  the  subject  of  de- 
bate; and  if  there  are  any  exciting  elements  in  it,  their 
passions  are  enkindled,  and-  the  texture  of  their  argument  is 
rendered  heated  and  radiant  with  the  flame.  The  strong 
workings  of  the  sensibilities  are  seen  in  the  agitated  nerves, 
the  violent  jesticulation,  and  the  contortions  of  the  muscles. 
And  we  might  expect  great  results,  were  it  not  that  the 
presiding  power  of  the  will,  upon  which  under  such  circum- 
stances every  thing  depends,  is  not  equal  to  the  occasion. 
The  voluntary  power  staggers  upon  its  throne.  They  lose 
the  control  of  themselves;  so  that  the  mind,  freighted  as  it 
is  with  thought  and  argument,  is  violently  driven  about, 
like  a  ship  caught  in  a  whirlwind. 

But  there  are  other  public  speakers,  who  combine  a  high 
degree  of  intellectual  ability  with  a  no  less  signal  energy  of 
the  will.  On  the  occasions  of  public  debate,  however  mo- 
mentous, they  arise  with  perfect  calmness.  The  class  of 
persons,  whom  we  now  have  in  view,  are  not  without  pas- 
sion. On  the  contrary,  the  passions  exist  in  a  decided  de- 
gree, and  are  capable  of  being  aroused,  and  of  being  impreg- 
nated with  tremendous  energy.  But  under  no  circumstances 
do  they  permit  the  passions  to  be  so  aroused  as  to  reject 
and  annul  the  supervision  and  control  of  the  higher  power 
of  the  will.  They  at  times  permit  them  to  operate,  so  far  as 
may  be  necessary  to  inftise  vitality  and  vigour  into  the  intel- 
lect; but  always  hold  them,  even  in  their  highest  exercises, 
amenable  to  the  effective  superintendence  of  volition.  Accord- 
ingly wh6n  they  consider  it  as  suiting  their  purpose,  they  let 
them  loose,  and  at  once  their  voice  and  all  the  other  methods 
of  oratorical  communication  become  the  indices  and  exposi- 


358  DIFFERENCES    OF 

tors  of  the  tempest  that  is  raging  within.  If  it  suits  their 
purpose  better,  they  suddenly  call  to  their  aid  the  suprema- 
cy of  the  voluntary  power;  all  outward  agitation  ceases  ; 
a  calm  succeeds  to  the  tempest;  there  is  nothing  perceptible 
but  quiet  dignity  and  unruffled  self-possession;  the  passions, 
rebuked  and  quelled  by  a  higher  authority,  retire  into  the 
secret  recesses  of  the  soul ; 

**  Imperio  premit,  ac  vinclig  et  carcere  freenat." 

§.  246 .  Power  of  the  will  requisite  in  the  military  and  other  arts. 

There  are  other  situations  and  callings  in  life,  in  which 
power  of  the  will  is  an*  essential  requisite  to  success.  This 
is  particularly  true  of  the  military  life,  although  it  is  painful 
even  to  speak  of  such  an  art  or  calling  among  men.  There 
never  was  a  great  commander,  who  had  not  great  energy  of 
volition.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  because  a  man  stands 
unmoved  and  calm  in  the  day  of  battle,  even  in  its  most  ter- 
rible onsets,  that  he  is  naturally  destitute  either  of  fear,  or 
of  the  love  of  life.  If  this  is  sometimes  the  case,  it  is  cer- 
tainly not  always  so.  And  where  such  is  undoubtedly  the 
fact,  it  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  evidence  of  greatness,  but 
rather  of  obtuseness  and  hebetude  of  character.  That  sort 
of  courage,  which  consists  in  mere  dullness  and  immo- 
bility of  feeling-,  may  answer  well  enough  for  a  common 
soldier;  but  the  trait  of  a  great  commander,  in  addition  to 
great  intellectual  power,  is  energy  of  the  will,  or  what  we 
more  commonly  express  by  the  term  self-command.  He  keeps 
not  only  his  fears,  but  his  hopes  also  in  subjection;  and  the 
imperturbable  calmness  he  discovers  is  not  to  be  regarded  as 
a  proof  of  the  absence  of  fear  or  hope  or  joy  or  sorrow  or 
anger,  but  merely  as  an  indication,  that  he  keeps  those  emo- 
tions and  passions  under  complete  control. 

Similar  remarks  will  apply  to  those,  who  are  exposed  to 


VOLUNTARY    POWEB.  359 

the  dangers  and  perplexities  of  a  sea-faring  life;  particular- 
ly such  as  are  sent  out  on  voyages  of  exploration  and  dis- 
covery. If  a  high  degree  of  energy  of  the  will  is  essential 
to  the  character  of  men,  who  are  required  to  fill  leading  mil- 
itary stations,  it  is  not  less  essential  to  those  who,  like  Co- 
lumbus and  De  Gama  and  Cooke  and  La  Perouse  are  des- 
tined to  discover  and  explore  new  worlds.  And  hence,  when 
persons  are  to  be  selected  for  such  expeditions,  the  inquiry 
with  their  employers  always  is,  not  merely  is  he  a  man  of 
intellect  and  of  education,  but  is  he  a  man  of  decision  and 
firmness?  Can  he  stand  unmoved  and  self-possessed  in 
trying  and  unexpected  situations?  Is  he  able  with  entire 
and  manifest  coolness,  to  meet  danger,  and  pain,  and  even 
death  itself? 

§.  247.  Energy  of  the  will  requisite  in  the  men  of  revolutions, 

A  higher  degree  of  voluntary  power,  than  is  allotted  to 
the  great  mass  of  mankind,  seems  to  be  requisite  in  those, 
who  are  destined  to  take  a  leading  part  in  those  great  moral, 
religious,  and  political  revolutions,  which  have  from  time- 
to  time  agitated  the  face  of  the  world.  It  is  no  easy  task 
to  change  the  opinions  of  men,  to  check  and  subdue  vices 
which  have  become  prevalent,  or  to  give  a  new  aspect  and 
impulse  to  religion  and  liberty.  The  men,  who  take  a  lead 
in  these  movements,  are  in  general  men  of  decision  and  firm- 
ness ;  no  others  would  answer  the  purpose.  If  the  gentle 
spirit  of  Melancthon  had  been  placed  in  the  precise  position 
occupied  by  Luther,  would  the  great  event  of  the  Protestant 
Reformation  have  been  urged  forward  with  the  same  impe- 
tus, and  to  the  same  issues  ? When  society  becomes  great- 
ly unsettled  either  in  its  religious  or  political  aspects,  when 
there  is  a  heaving  and  tossing  to  and  fro,  a  removal  of  the  old 
landmarks,  and  a  breaking  up  of  the  old  foundations,  then 
it  is,  that  men,  not  merely  of  intellect,  but  of  decision  and 


360  DIFFERENCES    OF 

energy,  (sagacious,  cool,  decided,  persevering,  resolute,) 
find  their  way  upward  to  the  summit  of  the  conflicting  ele- 
ments, and  subject  them  to  their  guidance.  Such  is  the  nat- 
ural course  of  things;  such  men  are  needed  and  no  others  are 
capable  of  taking  their  place;  and  they  become  almost  of 
necessity  the  advisers  and  leaders  in  the  nascent  order  of  so- 
ciety. The  prominent  leaders,  therefore,  in  every  great  re- 
ligious or  political  revolution  will  be  found  to  illustrate  the 
fact,  that  there  are  original  and  marked  differences  in  the 
degree  of  power,  which  is  appropriate  to  the  will.  Look  at 
the  men  who  presided  at  the  events  of  the  great  English 
Revolution  of  1640,  particularly  the  Puritans,  men  of  the 
stamp  of  the  Vanes,  Hampdens,  and  Fleetwoods;  who,  in 
embarking  in  the  convulsions  of  that  stormy  period,  had  a 
twofold  object  in  view,  the  security  of  political  liberty,  and 
the  attainment  of  religious  freedom!  Were  they  weak  men? 
Were  they  men  wanting  in  fortitude?  Were  they  uncertain 
and  flexible,  vacillating  and  double-minded?  History  gives 
an  emphatic  answer  to  these  questions.  It  informs  us,  that 
they  entered  info  the  contest  for  the  great  objects  just  now 
referred  to,  with  a  resolution  which  nothing  could  shake, 
with  an  immutability  of  purpose  resembling  the  decrees  of 
unalterable  destiny.  They  struck  for  liberty  and  religion, 
and  they  struck  not  thrice  merely,  but  as  the  prophet  of  old 
would  have  had  them;  smiting  many  times j2ind  smiting  fierce- 
ly, till  Syria  was  consumed.  They  broke  in  pieces  the 
throne  of  England;  they  trampled  under  foot  her  ancient 
and  haughty  aristocracy ;  they  erected  the  standard  of  reli- 
gious liberty,  which  has  waved  ever  since,  and  has  scatter- 
ed its  healing  light  over  distant  lands  ;  and  by  their  wisdom 
and  energy  they  not  only  overthrew  the  enemies  of  freedom 
at  home,  but  made  the  name  of  their  country  honoured  and 
terrible  throughout  the  earth.  They  seem  to  have  entirely 
subjected  their  passions  to  their  purposes,  and  to  have  pres- 


m 


VOLUNTARY    POWER. 

sed  all  the  exciting  and  inflammable  elements  of    theii}^'.  i*^ 
nature  into  the  service   of  their  fixed   and  immutable" wills. 
In  the  prosecution  of  their  memorable  achievements, 

**  Of  which  all  Europe  talk'd  from  side  to  side," 
they  acted  under  the  the  two-fold  pressure  of  motives  drawn 
from  heaven  and  earth  ;  they   felt   as   if  they  were   con- 
tending for  principles  which  were  valuable  to  all  mankind, 
and  as  if  all  mankind  were  witnesses  of  the  contest;  at  the 
same  time  that  they  beheld  on   every  side,  in  the  quickened 
eye  of  their   faith,  the   attendant   angels  .  eagerly  bending 
over  them,  who  were  soon  to  transfer  to   the  imperishable 
records  on  high  the  story  of  their  victory  and  reward,  or  of 
their  defeat  and  degradation.  All  these  things  imparted  addi- 
tional fixedness  and  intensity  to  their  purposes.  "  Death  had 
lost  its  terrors,  and  pleasure  its   charms.     They  had  their 
smiles  and  their  tears,  their  raptures  and  their  sorrows,  but 
not  for  the  things  of  this  world.  Enthusiasm  had  made  them 
Stoics,  had  cleared  their  minds  from  every  vulgar  passion 
and  prejudice,  and  raised  them  above  the  influence  of  danger 
and  corruption.     It  sometimes  might  lead  them  to  pursue 
unwise  ends,   but  never  to   choose   unwise  means.     They 
went  through  the  world  like  Sir  Artegale's  man  Talus  with 
his  flail,  crushing  and  trampling  down  oppressors,  mingling 
with  human  beings,  but  having  neither  part  nor  lot  in  hu- 
man infirmities;    insensible  to   fatigue,  to   pleasure,   and  to 
pain;  not  to  be  pierced  by  any  weapon,  not  to  be  withstood 
by  any  barrier."* 

§.  248.  Practical  application  of  these  views. 

The  statements  and  reasonings  of  this  and  the  preceding 
chapters  in  this  Part  of  the  Treatise  seem  to  us  satisfactori- 
ly to  show,  that  power,  in  the  strict  and  real   sense  of  the  -  ' 

♦Edinburgh  Review,  Aug.  1825,  Art.  Milton. 
46 


362     DIFFi]RENCES   OF  VOLUNTARY  POWER. 

terra,  is  an  attribute  of  the  mind  as  a  whole;  that  it  is  truly 
an  attribute  of  the  will  also;  and  that  as  an  attribute  of  the 
will  it  exists  in  different  degrees  in  different  individuals. 
And  it  is  proper  to  add  here,  that  these  views  admit  of  a 
practical  application,  from  which  no  person  whatever  ought 
to  consider  himself  exempt.  We  are  too  apt  to  estimate  and 
limit  the  degree  of  our  accountability  by  the  amount  of  our 
intellectual  powers.  But  it  cannot  be  doubted,  that  this  is 
a.  ground  of  estimate  too  restricted.  We  are  to  inquire  also, 
whether  our  Maker  has  not  seen  fit  to  give  us  a  large  share 
of  natural  fortitude  and  decision  ?  Whether  he  has  not  en- 
dued us  with  powers  of  the  will,  which  under  a  suitable 
direction  might  be  available  for  our  own  good  and  that  of 
others  ?  And  if  we  find  it  to  be  so,  we  may  be  assured, 
that,  somewhere  within  the  sphere  of  our  location  and  action 
in  life,  there  are  duties,  which  require  this  precise  kind  of 
talents,  for  the  performanee  of  which  they  were  undoubted- 
ly give^.  Let  lis,  then,  study  ourselves;  and  learn  what  our 
adorable  Maker  would  have  us  to  do. 


CHAPTER  FIFTH. 


CONSISTENCY  OF  CHARACTER. 


§.  249.   Connection  of  the  philosophy  of  the  will  with  consisten- 
cy of  character. 

The  philosophical  analysis  of  the  Will,  which  we  have 
now  in  a  great  degree  completed,  may  contribute  to  various 
practical  results,  some  of  them  of  no  small  value.  Among 
other  things  we  may  confidently  assert,  that  we  find  in  the 
nature  and  operations  of  the  Will  the  basis  of  consistency 
OF  CHARACTER,  which  is  Certainly  one  of  the  most  interesting 
as  well  as  important  traits.  There  is  a  well  written  and 
and  popular  Essay  of  Mr.  Foster  upon  Decision  of  Charac- 
ter ;  a  subject,  although  it  is  intimately  connected  with  the 
doctrine  of  the  will,  on  which  we  do  not  propose  to  touch 
except  incidentally.  We  refer  to  that  Essay,  which  ex- 
hausts in  a  great  degree  the  subjectof  Decision  of  Character, 
merely  for  the  purpose  of  saying,  if  indeed  it  can  be  necessa- 
ry to  suggest  a  caution  of  that  kind,  that  it  is  important  not 
to  confound  consistency  with  mere  decision;  for,  although 
they  approximate  and  resemble  in  some  respects,  they  are 
obviously  remote  from  each  other  and  different  in  other  reS- 


364  CONSISTENCY    OF    CHARACTER. 

pects.  Decision  is  more  limited;  consistency  embraces  a  wi- 
der range  of  operations.  Decision  relates  to  one  thing,  or  at 
least  may  be  shown  clearly  and  distinctly  in  one  thing ;  consis- 
tency relates  to  many.  The  appropriate  sphere  of  decision  of 
character  is  found  in  some  perplexing,  but  definite  emergency, 
and  of  course  it^  generally  manifests  itself  in  the  performance 
of  particular  acts.  Consistency,  on  the  contrary,  can  never 
be  shown  from  fhe  course  taken  in  a  particular  emergency, 
•without  taking  into  consideration  the  conduct  of  the  person  in 
other  situations ;  but  developes  and  proves  itself  from  the  ten- 
our  of  his  conduct  in  a  long  series  of  events.  Decision  im- 
plies a  condensed  and  inspirited  energy  put  forth  in  the  crisis 
.of  a  day  or  an  hour;  consistency  implies  a  condensation,  and, 
if  we  may  be  allowed  the  expression,  a  tension  of  purpose,  kept 
firm  and  immoveable  for  years  and  even  a  whole  life. 

There  are  some  men,  who  may  not  altogether  be  wanting 
in  decision,  but  who  exhibit  a  species  of  mental  restlesness,  an 
uncertainty  of  regard  and  affection,  an  inequality  of  temper, 
and  an  inconstancy  of  conduct,  which  seems  to  be  inconsis- 
tent with  the  just  claims  of  a  percipient  and  moral  nature.  If 
we  do  not  err  in  our  estimate  of  the  capabilities  of  human  na- 
ture, it  is  in  the  power  of  all,  who  are  in  the  full  possession  of 
their  faculties,  to  check  this  inordinate  restlessness,  to  regu- 
late in  a  great  degree  this  inequality,  to  establish  and  to  ren- 
der certain  this  inconstancy  and  uncertainty;  and  it  is  certain- 
ly unnecessary  to  urge  the  importance  of  doing  it.  The  man 
of  naturally  small  intellect  renders  himself  ridiculous,  as  well 
as  unhappy  by  capriciousness  and  inconstancy;  by  such  a 
course  he  hides  or  destroys  the  single  talent  that  is  given  him; 
while  the  man,  who  possesses  originality  and  vigour  of  intellect, 
and  who  might  make  them  of  great  account  for  the  good  of  his 
fellow-men,  loses  for  the  same  reason  the  confidence,  which 
would  be  otherwise  reposed  in  him,  and  becomes  comparatively 
useless. 


CONSISTENCY   OF   CHARACTER.  365 

§.  250.  Illustrations  of  the  inconsjstent  cJiaracter. 

We  shall  perhaps  obtain  a  more  full  and  precise  idea  of 
consistency  of  character,  if  we  look  at  the  person  who  is  with- 
out it.  The  inconsistent  man  projects  a  plan  of  operations  to 
day;  to-morrow  he  makes  preparations  to  carry  it  into  effect; 
and  the  next  day  he  abandons  it.  He  proclaims  his  friendship 
for  this  or  that  individual;  eulogizes  their  merits  without  much 
discrimination  on  every  opportunity  suitable  or  unsuitable;  but 
suddenly  he  becomes  suspicious,  recals  his  eulogiums,  and 
ends  in  hatred.  He  adopts  the  principles  of  some  literary,  po- 
litical, or  religious  sect;  defends  them  with  great  zeal  for  a 
short  .time;  and  then  reject^  them  with  contempt.  And  it  is 
impossible  from  any  assertions  he  may  make  or  any  course  he 
may  pursue  at  the  present  moment  to  divine  what  doctrines  he 
will  maintain  or  what  course  he  will  take  hereafter.  In  the 
language  of  Bruyere  "a  man  unequal  in  his  temper  is  several 
men  in  one ;  he  multiplies  himself  as  often  as  he  changes  his 
taste  and  manners:  he  is  not  this  minute  what  he  was  the  last, 
and  will  not  be  the  next  what  he  is  now;  he  is  his  own  succes- 
sor; ask  not  of  what  complexion  he  is,  but  what  are  his  com- 
plexions; nor  of  what  humor,  but  how  many  sorts  of  humors 
has  he.  Are  you  not  deceived?  Is  it  Eutichrates  whom  you 
meet?  How  cold  he  is  to  day!  Yesterday  he  sought  you, 
caressed  you,  and  made  his  friends  jealous  of  you.  Does  he  re- 
member you?     Tell  him  your  name." 

§.  251.  Illustrations  of  the  consistent  character. 

The  consistent  man  is  directly  the  reverse.  He  may  be 
less  prompt  and  rapid  in  his  movements,  but  he  ordinarily  ex- 
hibits more  discretion.  And  when  he  has  once  come  to  a 
conclusion  as  to  what  course  is  best  to  be  pursued,  he  goes 
forward  to  the  accomplishment  of  his  object  with  perseverance 
and  success.     He  may  be  somewhat  cautious  in  forming  friend- 


S6Q  CONSISTENCY     OF    CHARACTER. 

ships;  but  he  is  equally  so  in  breaking  them  up  and  terminat- 
ing them.  He  endeavOrs  to  perform  What  he  considers  to  be 
his  duty  after  a  full  examination  of  a  subject,  and  is  not  dis- 
couraged and  angry  and  turbulent,  if  he  happens  to  meet  with 
disappointments.  He  looks  calmly  on  the  changes  of  life, 
neither  much  elated  by  prosperity,  nor  depressed  by  adversity. 
He  does  not  make  his  principles  bend  to  his  circumstances; 
but  conscientiously  and  firmly  maintains  them  under  all  chan- 
ges of  fortune.  If  he  is  poor  in  outward  wealth,  he  is  rich  in 
inward  consolation;  if  he  is  sometimes  filled  with  sorrow,  he  is 
not  harrassed  with  the  ten-fold  wretchedness  of  remorse ;  and 
if  he  is  destitute  and  unhonoured,  he  is  never  contemptible. 
Such  is  the  consistent  man,  when  guided  by  the  senti- 
ments of  virtue.  Such,  among  other  illustrious  names  abound- 
ing both  in  profane  and  sacred  history,  was  Socrates.  It  was 
his  consistency  of  character,  which  shed  such  a  lustre  over  the 
name  and  life  of  that  wisest  of  the  sons  of  Athens. 

Other  mien  may  have  possessed  equal  talents  and  have  been 
equally  conspicuous;  but  they  had  not  the  same  consistency; 
a  consistency  the  more  remarkable,  as  it  was  sustained  not  on- 
ly against  outward  pressures,  but  against  no  small  share  of  in- 
ward evils.  It  is  this  trait  in  particular,  which  has  rendered 
the  ethical  teacher  of  the  ancients  so  preeminently  entitled  to 
the  rank  which  he  holds.  In  almost  every  possible  situation, 
that  could  test  his  principles  or  try  his  patience,  he  was  unal- 
tered. He  retained  the  same  high  principles  of  virtue,  the 
same  meekness  and  kindness  and  cheerfulness,  the  same  un- 
feigned disposition  to  promote  the  good  of  his  country  and  of 
all  mankind,  amid  great  poverty,  amid  ingratitude  and  rebuke 
and  calumny,  in  prison  and  in  death  itself  Had  he  decidedly 
failed  in  a  single  position,  had  he  subjected  his  principles  to 
some  temporary  convenience  even  for  one  short  hour,  it  would 
have  tarnished  forever  the  glory  of  his  good  name. 


CONSISTENCY    OF    CHARACTER.  ^67 

§.  352.   Of  individuals  remarkable  for  consistency  of  character. 

And  if  we  come  down  to  our  own  times  and  our  own  coun- 
try, is  it  not  the  same  ?  What  is  it,  that  imparts  its  deathless 
splendour  to  the  name  of  Washington  ?  It  is  the  same  consis- 
tency of  character.  In  that  well-balanced  and  noble  mind, 
each  desire  and  passion  was  compelled  to  keep  its  place.  He 
never  allowed  them  to  usurp  an  undue  dominion,  and  to  drag 
his  will  hither  and  thither  against  the  dictates  of  his  conscience. 
He  had  but  one  rule  of  conduct,  that  of  an  enlightened  moral 
sense.  Hence  his  life  was  not,  at  different  periods,  at  vari- 
ance with  and  dissevered  from  itself;  but  was  one  throughout, 
constituting  from  beginning  to  end,  (at  least  as  compared  with 
that  of  the  great  mass  of  mankind,)  a  resplendent  and  unchan- 
geable unity  of  excellence. 

We  could  point  to  one  man  yet  living  with  a  ripe  and  hon- 
ourable old  age,  the  associate  and  friend  and  pupil  of  Wash- 
ington, whose  glory  is  stamped  as  true  and  enduring  by  the 
consistency,  which  has  pervaded  his  conduct  in  the  various 
trying  situations,  in  which  he  has  been  placed.  Having  seen 
in  his  youth  the  miseries  of  a  government,  which  is  not  based 
on  just  fundamental  laws,he  naturally  felt  a  sympathy  for  those, 
wherever  they  might  be,  who  were  struggling  for  liberty.  It 
was  not  however  the  licentiousness  of  a  mob,  which  had  anjr 
charms  for  him;  but  freeedom  controlled  by  law,  the  union  of 
liberty  and  order.  The  promotion  of  these  has  been  the  great 
object  of  his  life,  steadily  and  openly  pursued  in  almost  every 
possible  variety  of  trying  situation.  At  one  time  the  idol  of 
the  populace,  at  another  doomed  by  them  'to  the  scaffold;  at 
one  time  the  prominent  and  leading  man  of  his  nation,  and 
soon  afler  a  detested  fugitive  and  exile ;  to-day  the  admired 
inmate  of  palaces,  to-morrow  the  resident  of  a  dungeon;  in 
poverty  and  in  wealth,  in  joy  and  in  sorrow,  in  honour  and 
in  degradation,  under  the  old  monarchy,  the  republic,  the  em- 


368  CONSISTENCY    OF    CHARACTER. 

pire  and  the  constitutional  monarchy,  in  the  old  world  and  the 
new,  in  the  field  of  battle  and  amid  the  debates  of  the  senate, 
when  every  thing  around  him  has  changed  and  every  thing  in 
his  own  personal  situation,  he  still  steadily  and  cheerfully  pur- 
sues the  same  noble  object;  identified,  more  than  any  thing 
else,  by  the  identity  of  his  principles ;  and  still  grasping,  as  he 
bends  over  the  grave,  the  standard,  inscribed  with  liberty  and 
order,  which  waved  over  him  in  the  early  contests  of  America. 

§.  253.   Of  the  value  of  consistency  in  the  religious  character. 

If  consistency  gives  nearly  its  whole  beauty  to  the  charac- 
ter of  men  in  the  political  sphere  and  also  in  the  ordinary  trans- 
actions of  life,  it  is  certainly  not  less  fitted  to  adorn  and  to 
honour  in  the  discharge  of  the  various  duties  of  religion. 
Probably  no  directions  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  (not  always 
given  in  express  terms,  but  oflen  indirectly  and  by  implication,) 
are  more  frequent  than  those,  which  require  us  to  possess  and 
to  exhibit  consistency  of  religious  character.  This  requisition 
is  implied  more  or  less,  in  all  those  passages  which  exhort  us 
to  labour  and  not  to  faint,  to  bear  with  patience,  not  to  be  soon 
shaken  in  mind,  and  to  persevere  unto  the  end.  When  we 
lack  wisdom,  we  are  directed  by  an  Apostle,  to  "ask  in  faith, 
nothing  wavering  ;  for  he,  that  waver eih,  is  like  a  wave  of  the 
sea,  driven  with  the  wind  and  tossed.  For  let  not  that  man 
think,  that  he  shall  receive  any  thing  of  the  Lord.  A  double- 
minded  man  is  unstable  in  all  his  ways.  ^'  Again  and  again, 
christians  are  commanded  to  watch,  to  stand  fast,  to  continue 
grounded  and  settled  in  the  faith,  not  to  be  moved  away  from 
the  hope  of  the  Gos'pel,  and  to  hold  fast  their  profession  with- 
out wavering. 

It  is  melancholy  to  see,  how  much  the  conduct  of  those, 
who  would  not  be  thought  to  be  wanting  in  true  Christian  feel- 
ing, varies  with  circumstances.  The  performance  of  the  most 
plain  and  obvious  duty,  (for  instance  that   of  prayer,)   is  un- 


CONSISTENCY    OF    CHARACTER.  $Qg 

wisely  and  wickedly  made  to  depend  upon  a  thousand  contin- 
gencies, as  some  transient  doubt  or  fear,  to  which  all  men  are 
subject,  some  trifling  worldly  disappointment,   some  slight  af- 
fection of  the  nervous  system,  a  keen  and  uncomfortable  atmos- 
phere, the  wind  blowing  in  a  particular  direction,  a  bright  and 
beaming  sun,  or  a  sky  overcast  with  clouds.     Many  religious 
persons  decline  doing  what  it  is  obviously  their  duty  to  do,  be- 
cause, as  they  alledge,  they  are  not  in  the  right  frame;  in  other 
words,  because  their  hearts  are  not  sufficiently  quickened  and 
enlivened;   not  considering,  that  the  laws  of  God  and  the  requi- 
sitions of  duty  are  as  much  binding  upon  the  will  and  the  mor- 
al powers,  as  upon  the  desires  and  the  passions.     When  the  de- 
sires and  the  passions  are  asleep,  or  are  tending  the  wrong  way, 
we  may  still  find  within  us  abundant  elements  of  action  in  the 
will  and  the  conscience.     And  just  so  long  as  the  voluntary  pow- 
er or  faculty  of  the  will  remains  to  us,  and  the  moral  nature,  by 
pointing  out  a  certain  course  to  be  pursued,  furnishes  a  basis 
or  oA^asion  for  the  action  of  the  will,  no  excuse  of  dullness  and 
worldliness  of  the  affections  can  possibly  avail.     Men  may  al- 
ways be  morally  bound  to  do  up  to  the  limit  of  what  they  can  do; 
and  if  their  feelings,-  (we^  speak  not  of  the  moral  feelings,  but 
merely  of  the  desires  and  affections  in  themselves  considered,) 
do  not  come  up  to  the  standard  of  their  actions,  that  may  be 
their  sm,  as  undoubtedly  it  is,  but  not   their  excuse.     Not  that 
we  mean  to,  approve,  by  any  means,  a  cold  and  heartless  perfor- 
mance of  religious  duties ;  but  merely  to  assert,  that  there  are 
elements  in  our  nature,  which  are  sufficient  to  keep  the  conduct 
steady,  and  which  ought  to  keep  it  steady,  to  the  pursuit  of  the 
great  objects  of  a  religious  life,  amid  the  fluctuations  of  feeling, 
to  which  men  are  so  exposed.     A  depressed  and  suffering  con- 
dition of  the  physical  system  may  for  a  time  infuse"  a  gloom  and 
darkness  into  our  religious  affections,  but  so  long  as  our  percep- 
tions of  truth  remain   clear, .and   our  moral  sensibilities  are 
47  .  . 


370  CONSISTENCY    OF    CHARACTER. 

awake,  and  the  faculty  of  the  will  is  continued  to  us,  we  remain 
under  an  obligation,  as  binding  and  as  urgent  as  ever,  to  hold 
on  our  way,  to  trust  in  God,  to  press  forward  towards  the  mark, 
to  fulfil  faithfully  every  obvious  duty,  '-^cast  down  but  not  des- 
troyed, .faint  yet  pursuing." 

§.  254.   Of  the  foundation  or  basis  of  consistency  and  inconsiS' 
tency  of  character. 

The  statements  of  this  chapter  thus  far  go  to  show  what  con- 
sistency of  character  is,  of  what  importance  it  is,  and  what 
b6auty  and  interest  it  throws  over  the  whole  life.  Now  if  con- 
sistency of  character  is  at  once  so  full  of  beauty  and  utility, 
while  the  opposite  trait  of  character  is  in  an  equal  degree  re- 
mote from  both,  being  as  deformed  in  its  aspect  as  it  is  detrimen- 
tal in  its  results,  it  is  important  to  inquire  into  the  cause  both 
of  the  one  and  the  other.  And  we  think  it  piust  be  obvious  on 
a  very  limited  reflection,  that  they  are  both  based  upon  one  and 
the  same  mental  power,  viz,  the  Will.  And  it  is  in  consequtSice 
of  this,  that  we  introduce  this  subject  in  connection  with  the  ex- 
amination of  the  will. If  the  will  be  decisive  and  energetic, 

the  conduct  will  be  essentially  consistent;  if  the  will  be  vacilla- 
ting and  weak,  we  may  naturally  expect  that  the  vacillation  of 
the  mind  will  infuse  itself  into  the  outward  life  and  stamp  it  with 
inconsistency. 

"When  I  look  at  the  mind  of  Lord  Bacon,  says  Cecil,  it 
s6ems  vast,  original,  penetrating,  analogical,  beyond  all  com- 
petition. When  I  look  at  his  character,  it  is  wavering,  shuffling, 
mean."*  That  the  character,  the  outward  life,  of  Lord  Bacon 
was  essentially  what  it  is  here  represented  to  be,  is  true;  but 
the  cause  of  this  meanness  and  wavering  and  shuffling  is  not  to 
be  sought  for  in  his  intellectual  powers,  for  in  that  respect  he 
was  undoubtedly  vast  and  original,  as  Cecil  represents  him,  and 
penetrating  and  analogical,  beyond  all  competition.  The  se- 
cret is  to  be  detected,  not  in  the  structure  of  his  intellect  or  the 

♦Remains  of  Rev.  Richard  Cecil Remarks  on  Authors. 


CONSISTENCY    OF    CHARACTER.  371 

mere  percipient  part  of  his  nature ;  but  in  the  natural  weakness 
of  his  will,  as  compared  with  the  intensity  of  his  desires  and  pas- 
sions. And  so  of  other  cases  of  marked  inconsistency  of  life. 
There  is  probably  not  one,  with  the  exception  to  be  mentioned 
in  the  next  section,  which  does  not  involve  the  fact  of  a  consti- 
tutional, or  a  relative  weakness  of  the  will. 

§.  255.   Of  inconsistency  of  belief  in  connection  with  inconsis- 
tency of  conduct  and  character. 

We  are  aware  there  is  some  ground  for  the  remark  here, 
that  inconsistency  of  conduct  is  not  to  be  ascribed  wholly  to  a 
defect  in  the  power  or  the  regulation  of  the  will ;  but  is  owing,  in 
part  at  least,  to  inconsistencies  in  the  power  of  betief.  There 
are  some  men  who  are  constantly  undergoing  changes  in  their 
speculative  views ;  whose  minds,  in  the  strong  language  of  Fos- 
ter, "are  a  CARAVANSERA  of  opinions,  entertained  a  while,  and 
then  sent  on  pilgrimage."  These  frequent  changes  will  of 
course  be  attended  with  correspondent  changes  and  inconsisten- 
cies of  conduct.  So  that  undue  versatility  of  conduct  is  not  al- 
ways to  be  ascribed  to  a  defect  in  the  regulation  of  the  will;  but 
often  to  an  inordinate  facility  and  changeableness  of  belief  In 
connection  with  this  aspect  of  human  nature,  which  is  undoubt- 
edly one  of  no  small  interest,  a  few  remarks  are  to  be  made. 

In  the  first,  place  we  admit  it  to  be  true  and  undeniable,  that 
there  are  some  men,  who  have  this  strange  facility  of  belief, 
which  in  its  results  attaches  them  successively  to  opinions  and 
systems  diametrically  opposite  in  their  import.  And  further- 
more, we  may  well  suppose,  that,  in  some  of  these  cases,  the 
cause  of  this  peculiarity  of  mind  is  a  constitutional  and  naturcd 
one.  They  labour  under  the  difficulty  of  a  constitutional  weak- 
ness or  defect  of  mind  in  this  particular.  Without  checking 
their  belief  by  the  suggestions  of  the  most  ordinary  degree  of 
caution,  without  taking  any  note  of  dates,  characters,  and  cir- 


m' 


372  CONSiaTENCY    OF   CHARACTEE. 

cumstances,  they  eagerly  receive  and  digest  the  most  glaring 
and  ridiculous  improbabilities.  In  respect  to  these  persons  we 
may  admit  that  their  inconsistency  of  conduct  is  not  to  be  ulti- 
mately ascribed  to  a  defect  in  the  exercises  of  the  will. 

But  in  the  second  place,  we  shall  find  in  many  and  perhaps  a 
majority  of  cases  of  great  vacillancy  and  changes  in  the  belief, 
that  the  ground  or  cause  of  such  multiplied  changes  is  not  a 
constitutional  imbecility  of  the  belief  itself,  but  is  to  be  sought 
for  in  the  will,  and  in  that  very  trait  or  characteristic  of  the  will, 
which  is  the  basis  of  such  inconsistencies  in  other  respects. 
That  is  to  say ;  the  change  in  the  position  of  the  mind,  which  is 
undergone,  commences  in  the  will,  and  the  belief  is  afterwards 
brought  to  correspond  to  the  new  direction,  which  has  been  ta- 
ken by  the  voluntary  power.  A  man,  for  instance,  who  is  wan- 
ting in  firmness  of  purpose,  is  assailed  by  another  person  of  a 
different  party  or  creed.  Placed  in  this  situation,  he  feels  the  lit- 
tle voluntary  strength  which  he  possesses,  beginning  to  break  up 
or  give  way  ;  S,nd  very  soon,  as  if  he  were  a  helpless  victim 
wholly  in  the  power  of  another,  he  is  carried  over  to  the  new 
party  and  creed,  and  deserts  both  his  old  doctrines  and  his  old 
friends.  He  is  not  convinced,  nor  satisfied;  on  the  contrary  he 
feels  himself  greatly  dishonoured;  but  as  he  soon  finds  he  can- 
not retreat,  but  must  remain  in  his  new  position,  whether  he  is 
pleased  with  it  or  not,  he  sets  about  searching  for  arguments  to 
justify  him  in  the  course  he  has  taken,  A  thousand  influences 
are  now  at  work,  which  were  dormant  before;  his  reputation, 
his  interests,  his  pride  all  throw  their  weight  in  favour  of  certain 
decisions  of  the  understanding  at  variance  with  its  former  con- 
clusions ;  and  by  this  rapid  and  powerful  process,  so  evidently 
unfavourable  to  a  true  view  of  a  subject,  his  intellect  is  soon 
brought  up  into  a  line  with  the  new  position  of  his  will;  and 
he  stands  justified  in  his  own  .estimation  as  a  consistent  person, 
though  it  may  be  in  nobody'^  else.  So  that  it  still  remains  good, 
as  a  general  statement,  that  the  basis  of  consistency  or  the  oppo- 


CONSISTENCY    OF    CHARACTER.  378 

site  is  to  besought  for  in  the  character  tind  discipline  of  the  will, 

§.  256.   Self -possession  an  element  of  consistency  of  character. 

But  it  will  be  seen  more  distinctly  and  fully,  that  consisten- 
cy of  character  has  its  basis  chiefly  in  the  condition  and  disci- 
pline of  the  will,  when  ^^e  consider  some  of  those  things,  which 
are  more  or  less  implied  or  embraced  in  such  consistency.  It 
is  beyond  all  question,  that  one  and  a  marked  element  in  con- 
sistency of  character  is  self-possession  or  self-government.  A 
consistent  person  has  of  course  some  fixed  principles,  by  which 
his  conduct  is  regulated,  and  some  great  objects  before  him, 
(or  at  least  what  he  considers  such,)  towards  which  his  efforts 
tend.  His  consistency  is  chiefly  exhibited  by  his  acting  upon 
these  principles,  and  steadily  pursuing  these  objects.  But 
not  unfrequently  there  are  circumstances  occurring,  which  come 
unexpectedly,  and  which,  coming  in  this  unexpected  manner, 
greatly  try  the  strength  of  his  resolutions.  If  .he  has  not  an 
entire  self-possession,  if  he  cannot  wholly  control  himself  in 
such  seasons  of  sudden  temptation  and  trial,  he  is  of  course 
liable  to  be  driven  oflf  from  the  ground  of  his  principles,  as  well 
as  diverted  from  the  great  object  of  his  pursuit,  and  thus  to 
forfeit  his  character  for  consistency.  It  is  highly  important, 
therefore,  if  we  would  possess  the  rich  reward  and  the  high 
honour  of  a  consistent  course  through  life,  that  the  business 
and  ev6nts  and  trials  of  our  present  state,  instead  of  driving  us 
hither  and  thither,  and  exercising  an  arbitrary  sway  over  us, 
should  be  made  subject  to  ourselves;  that  our  own  minds 
should  have  the  mastery,  the  preeminence,  the  control  over 
events^  But  this  ability  of  remaining  firm  and  self-possessed 
in  all  such  emergencies  implies  more  or  less  of  power  and  dis- 
cipline of  the  will.  And  if  consistency  of  character  is  a  truly 
valuable  trait,  which  gives  beauty  while  it  increases  the  worth 
of  all  other  traits  and  attainments,  we  have  a  reason  here,  and 
a  powerful  one   too,  why  we  should  endeavour  to  understand 


374  CONSISTENCY    OF    CHARACTER. 

the  nature  of  the  will  and  the  means  of  strengthening  and  reg- 
ulating it. 

§.  257.  Consistency  implies  perseverance  under  changes  of  cir- 
cumstances. 

As  consistency  of  character  involves  the  fact  of  a  series  of 
actions,  extending  over  a  greater  or  less  length  of  time,  there 
is  necessarily  implied,  as  another  element  in  such  a  character, 
a  disposition  to  persevere  in  the  course,  which  has  been  once 
adopted,  under  all  those  various  changes  of  circumstances, 
which  are  found  always  to  attend  the  progress  of  human  affairs. 
But  there  is  a  great  difference  in  this  respect.  When  the  tru- 
ly consistent  man  has  once  placed  before  him  some  object  as 
decidedly  worthy  of  his  pursuit,  he  presses  towards  it  with  an 
inflexible  and  ever  advancing  step ;  he  is  not  frightened  at  eve- 
ry lion  that  stands  or  is  supposed  to  stand  in  his  path ;  if  diffi- 
culties suddenly  come  in  his  way,  perhaps  many  in  number  and 
rising  one  above  another  in  magnitude,  his  courage  and  reso- 
lution swell  upward  in  proportion,  and  pass  easily  over  their 
summit. — —But  it  is  altogether  different  with  the  man,  who 
does  not  possess  this  character  for  consistency.  He  does  in- 
deed place.before  him  some  object  to  be  obtained,  and  he  en- 
ters upon  the  pursuit  of  it  with  ardour;  but  from  the  beginning 
he  pursues  a  zigzag  and  irregular  co*urse,  alternately  advan- 
cing and  retreating;  the  obstacles  he  meets  with,  whether 
from  within  or  from  without,  perplex,  his  resolutions,  and  final- 
ly turn  him  wholly  from  his  purpose. 

But  what  is  necessary  to  that  perseverance,  without  which 
there  can  be  no  consistency  of  character  ?  Obviously  strength 
of  will ;  either  a  natural  strength,  or  a  vigour  infused  into  it 
by  a  course  of  discipline.  So  that  we  see  in  this  respect, 
as  well  as  in  others,  how  closely  the  important  subject  of 
consistency  of  character  is  connected  with  the  doctrine  of  the 
will. 


CONSISTENCY    OF    CHARACTER.  $75 

§.  258.  Consistency  implies  a  control  over  the  passions. 

Among,  other  things,  which  are  implied  in  consistency  of 
character,  is  a  control  of  the  passions.  Although  this  ability  may, 
with  some  reason,  appear  to  be  involved  in  self-possession  or 
self-government,  yet  it  is  worthy  of  a  distinct  notice  "by  it- 
self. Frequent  and  violent  ebullitions  of  passion  will  neces- 
sarily mar  and  destroy  the  order  and  harmony  of  one's  life. 
It  is  obviously  ordered  in  Providence,  that  we  are  placed  in 
a  world  where  trials  constantly  beset  us,  where  griefs  and 
joys  and  tears  and  smiles  come  mingled  together,  not  mere- 
ly to  render  us  either  sad  or  happy,  but  to  try,  to  purify^ 
and  to  discipline  the  soul.  How  beautiful  and  even  sublime 
it  is  to  bear  in  patience  the  evils  which  are  our  allotment; 
"while  we  learn  in  quietude  and  thankfulness  the  salutary  les- 
sons they  impart!  It  cannot  be  doubted,  that  a  patient 
spirit,  in  the  circumstances  in  which  we  are  placed,  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  that  propriety  and  evenness  of  deportment, 
which  is  implied  in  consistency  of  character.  No  one  can 
pursue  the  regular  and  even  tenour  of  his  way  on  a  path  so 
beset  with  inequalities  as  that  of  human  life,  who  is  not 
able  to  guide  and  to  subdue  the  storms,  whether  of  anger  or 
impatience,  which  at  times  arise  in  every  one's  bosom. 
When  in  the  Providence  of  God,  we  are  made  the  subjects  of 
various  sorrows,  it  is  our  duty  to  bear  them  without  mur- 
muring. When  we  are  injured  by  our  enemies  and  are  an- 
gry with  them,  it  is  still  our  duty  to  forgive  and  to  bless 
them.  But  how  can  we  possibly  do  this;  in  what  way  can 
we  quell  our  impatience  and  subdue  our  anger  ;  if  there  be 
not,  distinct  from  the  passions  and  altogether  above  them, 
another  and  authoritative  power,  to  which  they  can  be  com^ 
pelled  to  render  obedience! 

It  may  perhaps  be  said  in  all  these  cases,  that  we  are 
not  obliged  to  throw  ourselves  on  the  voluntary  power,  be*- 


S:q        consistency  of  character. 

cause  we  have  the  power  of  the  conscience,  the  ability  im- 
planted within  us  to  judge  of  the  right  and  wrong.  But  it 
should  be  kept  in  mind,  that  the  act  of  conscience  is  merely- 
advisory  or  consultative;  that  it  merely  pronounces  a  thing 
to  be  just  or  unjust,  merely  approves  or  disapproves;  and 
that,  without  some  other  power  to  carr.y  its  decisions  to  their 
appropriate  results,  it  would  be  wholly  without  effect.  The 
whole  topic,  therefore,  of  consistency  of  character,  (one  of 
the  most  practical  and  interesting,  that  can  be  presented  to 
our  notice,)  is  closely,  and  even  inseparably  connected  with 
the  doctrine  of  the  nature,  powers,  and  laws  of  the  will. 
This,  however,  is  only  one  instance  of  the  applications  of 
this  great  subject;  which  will  be  found  to  weave  itself  into 
every  variety  and  aspect  of  the  philosophy,  of  human  conduct. 
So  that  we  may  say,  in  a  single  word,  that  it  is  impossible 
for  us  to  have  a  correct  understanding  of  the  elements  and 
operations  and  diversities  of  human  nature,  in  its  various 
aspects  both  of  feeling  and  action,  without  an  acquaintance, 
and  a  thorough  acquaintance  too,  with  the  nature  of  the  vol- 
untary power. 


CHAPTER  SIXTH. 


DISCIJPLINE  OF  THE  WILL. 


§.  259.  Importance  of  a  due  discipline  of  the  voluntary  power. 

In  all  the  various  treatises  having  relation  to  mental  dis- 
cipline, that  have  from  time  to  time  issued  from  the  press, 
while  much  has  been  said  of  the  discipline  of  the  memory, 
the  reasoning  power,  the  imagination,  &c,  but  little  has  been 
said  of  the  discipline  of  the  affections,  and  still  less  of  that 
of  the  will.  It  seems  even  to  have  been  imagined,  that  the 
voluntary  power,  in  consequence  perhaps  of  its  acknowledg- 
ed preeminence  and  control  over  the  other  powers,  is  placed 
in  a  sphere  so  entirely  distinct  and  remote,  as  not  tp  be  ap- 
proached in  the  way  of  discipline.  And  when  we  consider, 
what  ignorance  and  misconception  of  this  part  of  our  na- 
ture has  prevailed,  it  is  not  surprising  on  the  whole,  that 
such  a  notion,  erroneous  and  prejudicial  as  it  is,  should  have 
obtained  currency.  But  if  the  views  hitherto  given  in  the 
various  parts  of  this  treatise  be  correct,  we  shall  see  that 
the  discipline  of  the  will  is  not  an  unmeaning  .proposi- 
tion, and  that  it  is  as  important  as  it  is  practicable.     Of  the 

importance  of  this  discipline  it  will  not  be  necessary  to  say, 

48,    "  ^' 


378  DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL. 

much,  after  what  has  just  been  remarked  on  the  subject  of 
CONSISTENCY  of  character.  If  a  man  would  sustain  himself 
with  any  sort  of  credit  amid  the  storms,  which  blow  from 
every  point  of  the  compass  j  if  he  would  covet  the  reputation 
of  possessing  any  fixedness  of  belief  or  of  acting  on  any 
fixedness  of  plan,  it  is  certain  that  he  must  have  within  him- 
self a  regulative  power.  And  this  regulative  power,  in  or- 
der to  meet  and  sustain  the  requisitions,  that  are  made  upon 
it,  must  be  strengthened  in  every  possible  way. 

In  these  views  of  the  importance  of  the  discipline  and 
culture  of  the  will,  we  are  happy  to  find  ourselves  sustained 
by  the  authority  of  an  eminent  writer,  whose  opinions  would 
be  entitled  to  great  weight  on  a  matter  far  less  obvious. — 
"  The  faculty  of  the  will  requires  not  only  to  be  directed 
aright  in  infant  life,  but  to  be  fortified  and  strengthened  by 
a  course  of  exercise  and  discipline  as  much  as  any  faculty 
whatever.  This  we  may  say  as  physiologists;  but  as  moral- 
ists we  may  speak  a  bolder  language  and  maintain,  that  it  de- 
mands the  spur  and  trammels  of  education  even  more  than 
all  the  otber  faculties  put  together,  since  it  is  designed  by 
nature  to  be  the  governing  power,  and  to  exercise  an  abso- 
lute sway  over  the  rest,  even  over  the  desire  itself,  by 
which,  however,  it  is  moved  on  all  ordinary  occasions."* 

§.  260.  A  due  balance  of  all  the  powers  the  most  favourable 
state  of  things  to  the  just  exercise  of  the  will. 

In  this  connection  and  as  preparatory  to  what  we  have 
further  to  say  in  this  chapter,  we  are  led  to  make  the  remark, 
that  the  most  favourable  occasion  for  the  action  of  any  men- 
tal power  is  to  be  found  in  the  exact  adjustment  and  harmo- 
ny of  the  mental  powers  generally.  When  they  are  all  in 
their  natural  place,  when  they  are  all  properly  and  precisely 
♦Good's  Medicine,  Neue  OTIC  A  Ord.  I.  Gen.  vi. 


DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL.  379 

adjusted  in  reference  to  each  other,  without  any  of  that  in- 
terference and  jarring  which  always  result  from  a  transgres- 
sion of  their  natural  limits,  they  may  all  be  expected  to  act 
vigorously,  because  there  is  nothing  in  the  way  of  their  thus 
acting;  all  obstructions,  at  least  all  eMrinsic  obstructions,  are 
removed;  aud  we  may  reasonably  anticipate,  that  whatever 
ability  they  possess  will  be  put  forth  to  the  full  extent  of 
its  existence,  and  in  the  most  available  and  best  manner. 
And  accordingly  we  may  lay  it  down  as  a  general  principle, 
that  wherever  there  is  perfect  harmony  in  the  mind,  every 
thing  will  be  right  in  its  action;  every  exercise  of  the  mind  . 
will  be  in  accordance  with  the  truth  of  things;  that  is  to 
say,  it  will  be  just  such  as  it  ought  to  be. 

But  every  careful  observer  of  human  nature,  (saying 
nothing  of  the  obvious  testimony  of  the  Bible,)  assuredly 
knows,  that  this  is  a  state  of  things,which,  as  a  general  state- 
ment at  least,  does  not  exist  among  men.  The  perfect  har- 
mony of  mental  operation,  which  exists  in  the  Divine  Mind, 
and  which  is  beautifully  reflected  from  the  minds  of  all  per- 
fectly holy  beings,  is  not  found  in  man.  The  parts  of  the 
human  mind,  however  wonderfully  they  may  have  been  ar- 
ranged in  the  first  instance,  and  whatever  realizations  of 
harmony  they  are  capable  of  attaining  to  in  the  future,  ex- 
hibit at  the  present  time  but  too  mournful  evidence  of  a  dis- 
located and  jarring  movement.  We  do  not  undertake  to  ex- 
plain or  to  intimate  in  what  way  it  has  happened;  but  of 
the  general  fact  there  cannot  be  the  least  doubt,  that  the 
soul  of  man  from  his  childhood  upward,  so  far  from  always 
disclosing  an  exact  and  harmonious  action  as  it  should  do,, 
is  in  its  own  self  a  scene  of  fierce  and  unremitting  conflict; 
the  flesh  striving  against  the  spirit,  and  the  spirit  against 
the  flesh;  the  appetites  and  pas&ions  attempting  to  enforce 
their  claims  against  the  requisitions  and  authority  of  con^ 
science ;  the  love  of  the  world,  in  its  various  fo^nis  of  en- 


380  DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL. 

ticement  and  attraction,  earnestly  and  fiercely  contesting 
against  the  love  of  God  and  of  heavenly  things.  And  now 
it  should  be  kept  in  mind,  that  all  this  terrible  contest  bears 
directly  upon  the  will;  and  it  is  too  often  the  case,  that  this 
higher  and  controlling  power,  this  great  arbiter  of  the  inter- 
nal conflict,  gives  its  decision  in  favour  of  the  appetites  and 
against  the  moral  sentiments,  in  favour  of  the  world  and 
against  Him,  who  made  the  world  and  all  things  therein. 
But  this  is  a  state  of  things  which  ought  not  to  be.  And  it 
is  truly  a  great  practical  question,  in  what  way  the  energies 
<6f  the  will  can  be  strengthenedj  and  directed  to  their  appro- 
priate and  rightful  issues.  It  is  admitted  that  we  know 
the  right.  And  the  question  is,  how  shall  we  obtain  strength 
to  do  it?  How  shall  we  redeem  ourselves  from  our  volun- 
tary thraldom,  and  walk  forth  in  the  light  of  our  own  con- 
science and  in  the  smiles  of  an  approving  God,  regenerated 
and  free?  The  answer  to  these  questions  might  be  expanded 
over  volumes,  but  such  an  extended  examination "  is  not  a 
part  of  our  plan,  and  we  shall  dismiss  the  subject,  practical 
and  interesting  as  it  is,  with  some  general  views  given  in  as 
few  words  as  possible. 

§.  261.   Of  the  culture  of  the  appetites,  propensities,  and  pas- 
sions as  auxiliary  to  the  discipline  of  the  will. 

Keeping  in  view  the  general  statement,  that  an  entire 
harmony  of  the  mental  powers  is  a  condition  of  things  the 
most  favourable  for  the  perfect  exercise  of  the  will,  we  are 
the  more  fully  prepared  to  enter  into  the  examination  of  par- 
ticulars. We  proceed,  therefore,  to  remark,  that  it  is  highly 
important,  in  the  discipline  of  the  will,  to  keep  the  appetites, 
propensities,  and  passions  in  due  subjection.  While  it  is 
true,  that  the  volitions  are  capable  of  operating  upon  these 
various  desires,  and  that  they  can  check  and  subdue  them, 
both  by  a  direct  and   indirect  action,  and  particularly  by  a 


DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL.  381 

combination  of  both;. it  is  likewise  riot  the  less  true,  that 
these  appetitive  and  affective  parts  of  our  nature,  if  we  may- 
be allowed  such  expressions,  are  also  capable  in  their  turn 
of  operating  on  the  volitions,  and  that  they  do  thus  operate; 
although  it  is  not  necessary  at  the  present  time  to  enter  in- 
to any  explanation  of  the  precise  nature  of  this  reciprocal 
influence.  In  other  words  there  is  in  the  economy  of  the 
mind  a  fixed  relation  between  the  two;  between  the  volun- 
tary power  or  will  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  appetites  and 
affections  or  passions  on  the  other.  Each  of  them  has  its 
place;  each  in  a  perfect  state  of  the  mind  has  its  appropriate 
limits;  each  has  its  nature,  its  object,  and  its  relations. 
Hence,  in  order  to  illustrate  the  alleged  importance  of 
keeping  the  desires,  in  their  various  forms,  under  suitable 
control,  as  a  prerequisite  to  the  proper  exercise  of  the  will, 
it  seems  to  be  necessary  to  present  but  one  view.  It  is  a 
fact,  susceptible  of  as  clear  demonstration  as  subjects  of  this 
nature  generally  admit  of,  that  any  appetite  or  propensity 
whatever,  whether  it  be  the  desire  of  mere  sensual  pleasures 
or  of  knowledge,  wealth,  or  power,  which  is  indulged  for  a 
long  time  without  any  restraint,  (and  the  same  may  be  said 
of  any  one  of  the  passions  or  affections,)  ultimately  acquires 
the  ascendency,  and  entirely  prostrates,  not  only  the  will, 
but  the  whole  mind  at  its  feet.  If,  therefore,  we  duly  esti- 
mate the  great  object  of  securing  to  the  will  a  free,  unper- 
plexed,  and  vigorous  action,  we  shall  seriously  endeavour, 
by  the  use  of  all  those  means  which  have  a  relation  to  a 
result  so  desirable,  to  restrain  every  appetite,  propensity, 
and  passion  within  its  due  bounds.  Whenever  they  exhibit 
a  disposition  to  pass  the  limits,  which  a  duly  sensitive  con- 
science has  prescribed  to  them,  let  them  be  subjected  to  a 
rigid  supervision  and  repressfon.  If  we  permit  them  to 
take  even  one  step  beyond  the  sphere  which  nature  has  as- 
signed them,  we  give  them  a  sort  of  claim  on  another  step 


382  DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL. 

and  another;  and  what  is  worse,  we  give  them  renewed  pow- 
er to  enforce  it.  It  is  in  their  very  nature,  when  they  have 
once  transgressed,  to  insist  on  repeated  and  continued  trans- 
gression; and  it  is  impossible  effectually  to  evade  their 
clamorous  and  unjust  demands,  but  by  expelling  them  at 
once  from  their  position,  and  bringing  them  back  to  the 
place  where  they  belong. 

It  remains  only  to  be  added,  that  in  the  culture  of  the  vari- 
ous forms  of  desire  is  to  be  included,  not  only  the  repression 
of  those  which  are  evil  ;  but  the  bringing  out  and  strength- 
ening of  those  which  are  good.  The  amiable  and  honorable 
propensities  and  passions,  together  with  those  of  a  purely 
religious  kind,  are  entitled  to  a  position  in  our  sentient  con- 
stitution of  the  first  and  highest  rank  ;  but  how  frequently 
does  it  happen,  that  they  are  expelled  from  their  appropriate 
place,  and  are  compressed  into  some  obscure  nook,  by  the 
spreading  and  strengthening  of  those  of  a  different  charac- 
ter. But  it  is  certainly  incumbent  on  every  one,  who  is 
desirous  of  securing  the  great  object  of  freeness,  vigour,  and 
rectitude  in  the  mental  operations,  to  make  them  the  subject 
of  special  and  long-continued  attention,  to  allure  them  forth 
into  the  light,  and  in  every  suitable  way  to  accelerate  their 
expansion,  and  enhance  their  beauty. 

§.262  Some  instances  and  proofs  of  the  foregoing  statements. 

The  subject  of  the  inconsistency  of  the  perfect  exercise  of 
the  will  with  an  undue  and  unnatural  predominance  of  the 
appetites  and  passions  has  been  particularly  introduced  to 
the  reader's  notice  in  the  chapters  on  the  Slavery  and  the 
Alienation  of  the  will.  In  those  chapters  various  illustra- 
trations  and  facts  were  brought  forward;  and  of  course  it  is 
not  so  necessary  at  the  present  time  to  enter  into  further  il- 
lustrations and  proofs  at  much  length.  A  few  additional  re- 
marks will  suffice. 


DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL.  383 

Every  one  must  have  observed,  how  destructive  to  every 
good  resolve  and  noble  effort  is  the  inordinate  indulgence  of 
the  bodily  appetites.  When  thqy  obtain  the  ascendency, 
as  they  not  unfrequently  do,  they  make  the  unhappy  subject 
of  them  an  entire  slave;  obscuring  his  intellect,  blunting  his 
conscience,  perplexing  and  overthrowing  all  his  serious  and 
wise  determinations,  and  debasing  him  to  a  level  but  little 
short  of  that  of  the  brutes.  The  unhappy  results  of  such  in- 
dulgences are  so  frequently  witnessed,  that  we  feel  at  liber- 
ty to  pass  them  by  with  this  mere  reference. But  the  evil 

does  not  rest  with  the  undue  indulgence  of  the  appetites 
alone.  Those  active  principles,  which  under  the  name  of 
the  propensities  and  passions,  rank  decidedly  higher  in  the 
scale  of  our  sentient  nature,  are  hardly  less  hurtful,  when  in- 
dulged to  excess,  than  excessive  bodily  appetites.  This  re^ 
mark  may  perhaps  be  illustrated  by  a  brief  reference  to  the 
operations  of  a  passion,  which  is  obviously  implanted  for 
wise  and  beneficial  purposes,  and  whose  perversions  are  both 
less  numerous  and  less  injurious  than  those  of  some  others; 
we  refer  to  the  passion  of  Fear.  If  all  the  various  facts, 
which  go  to  make  up  the  history  of  this  passion,  could  be 
presented  before  the  reader,  he  would  at  once  see,  what  an 
immense  obstacle,  an  undue  intensity  of  the  passions  pre- 
sents to  the  unencumbered  and  vigorous  exercise  of  the  will, 
when  such  exercise  is  put  forth  or  is  proposed  to  be  put 
forth  in  any  direction  at  variance  with  the  precise  line  of  the 
passion  itself.  If  it  be  otherwise,  how  can  it  have  happened 
that  many  persons  of  clear  perception,  and  of  undoubted 
powers  of  intellect  in  every  respect,  have  nevertheless  been 
the  complete  slaves  of  the  irresistible  sway  of  the  passion 
now  referred  to! 

There  is  one  individual,  whose  mournful  history  is  so 
familiar  that  a  mere  suggestion  of  it  will  answer  our  puK- 


3S4  DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL. 

pose;  we  refer  to  the  English  poet  Cowper.  The  passion 
of  fear  in  this  amiable  and  interesting  writer,  (operating  un- 
doubtedly on  a  constitution  .easily  excited  and  nervous,)  was 
so  undue  in  its  influence,  that  the  will  was  often  entirely 
overcome  and  prostrated;  and  he  was  often  unable  to  perforin 
what  other  persons,  infinitely  his  inferiours  in  the  length 
and  breadth  of  intellectual  perception,  would  have  conceived 
a  very  easy  thing  to  be  done.  While  in  some  respects,  (all 
those  which  go  to  constitute  a  man  of  literature  and  a  poet,) 
but  very  few  men  could  justly  claim  a  superiority  over  him, 
he  sunk  in  others  to  the  grade  of  infantile  weakness  ;  and 
so  conscious  was  he  of  this,  that  his  vivid  imagination  rep- 
resented him  as  the  subject  of  ridicule  and  sport  among 
those  he  met  with  in  -the  streets. 

We  recollect  to  have  seen  it  represented  in  a  German  wri- 
ter of  deserved  celebrity,  that  the  key  to  the  character  of  the 
Apostle  Peter,  whose  active  and  benevolent  life  was  often 
strangely  anomalous  and  inconsistent  with  itself,  is  to  be 
found  in  the  undue  operation  of  the  passion  of  fear.  And 
there  seems  to  be  much  truth  in, the  remark.  If  one  will 
carefully  recal  the  incidents  in  the  life  of  that  devout  and 
faithful  follower  of  our  Saviour,  he  will  readily  recognize, 
how  applicable  the  remark  is.  When  the  disciple,  with  an 
undue  confidence  which  is  not  unfrequently  found  associated 
with  an  undue  susceptibility  to  fear,  assured  the  Saviour  he 
would  not  forsake  him,  though  all  others  should;  he  undoubt- 
edly uttered  what  he  felt,  and  what  he  felt  too,  when  he 
made  the  asseveration,most  deeply  and  sincerely.  But  when 
the  Saviour's  prospects  were  clouded,  when  the  hour  of  the 
prince  and  of  the  powers  of  darkness  came,when  the  shepherd 
was  smitten  and  the  smiters  seemed  to  have  all  might  in  their 
hands,  then  it  was  that  those  intense  misgivings  and  fears,  to 
which  this  devoted  follower  of  Christ  had  probably  been  al- 
ways subject,  came  rushing  in,  billow  upon  billow",  till  they 


DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL.  S35 

overwhelmed  all  the  landmarks   of  love   and  of  duty,  and 
bore  him  away  captive  into  the  camp  of  the  enemy. 

We  repeat  it,  therefore,  that  we  should  carefully  study  the 
nature  of  the  appetites,  propensities,  and  passions;  we  must 
make  them  the  objects  of  a  patient  and  assiduous  culture  ; 
we  must  in  particular  'subject  them  to  a  strict  supervision 
and  control ;  otherwise,  in  some  unexpected  hour,  they  will 
arise  in  their  might,  and,  in  defiance  of  the  clamours  of  con- 
science ana  the  struggles  of  the  voluntary  power,  will  bring 
the  whole  man  under  their  dominion.^ True  as  it  undoubt- 
edly iSjthat  the  will  has  a  real  and  substantive  power  in  itself, 
it  is  still  true  that  this  power  has  its  limits,  and  cannot  with- 
stand every  thing;  it  is  still  true  that  every  inordinate  ex- 
ercise of  the  appetites  and  passions  trenches  upon  Ihe  sphere 
of  the  voluntary  faculty,  and  diminishes  something  from  the 
freeness  and  vigour  of  its  ajction. 

§.  2QS.  Importance  of  repressing  the  outward  signs  of  the  pas^ 

sions. 

But  is  it  a  fact,  that  the  propensities  and  passions  are  ae^ 
tually  under  our  control  in  any  degree  ^  It  cannot  be  doubt- 
ed. Instances  have  already  been  given  which  show  it. 
There  is  a  very  striking  remark  of  Mr.  Locke  on  this  subject, 
in  his  interesting  chapter  on  Power.  "  Let  not  any  one 
say,  he  cannot  govern  his  passions,  nor  hinder  them  from 
breaking  out,  and  carrying  him  into  action;  for  what  he  can 
do  before  a  prince,  or  a  great  man,  he  can  do  alone,  or  in  the 
presence  of  God,  if  he  7ui/i." — Bat  granting  the  general  fact,  , 
the  inquirj'^  still  remains,  what  course  shall  be  taken,  what 
particular  method  shall  be  adopted  in  order  to  control  them, 
and  keep  them  in  their  place?  Our  limits  will  nof  permit  us 
to   undertake   an  answer  to  this  question  at  length;  and  we 

shall  accordingly  leave   the  whole  subject  to  tlie   reflections^ 
49 


386  DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL. 

and  good  judgment  of  the  reader  with  a  few  remarks  upon  a 
single  topic,  which  is  the  more  interesting  as  it  has  seldom 
attracted  notice;  certainly  not  that  degree  of  notice  to^which 
it  is  justly  entitled. There  is  a  tendency  in  every  emo- 
tion and  passion  to  express  itself  outwardly  by  means  of 
natural  signs,  such  as  the  motions  of  the  eye,  the  changes 
of  colour  in  the  countenance,  the  movements  of  the  muscles, 
and  the  tones  of  the  voice.  As  the  tendency  is  a  natural 
one,  it  may  be  difficult  to  control  it  entirely;  buf  it  is  high- 
ly important  to  attempt  to  do  so.  And  the  reason  is,  (and 
a  singular  fact  it  is  in  the  economy  of  the  mind,)  that  the 
outward  expression  reacts  upon  the  inward  principle,  and 
gives  increased  intensity  to  the  internal  feeling.  "As  every 
emotion  df  the  mind,  says  Mr.  Stewart,  produces  a  sensible 
effect  on  the  bodily  appearance,  so,  upon  the  other  hand, 
when  w6  assume  any  strongly  expressive  look,  and  accom^ 
pany  it  with  appropriate  gestures,  some  degree  of  the  cor- 
respondent emotion  is  apt  to  arise  within  us.  l^r.  Burke 
informs  us,  that  he  has  often  been  conscious  of  the  passion 
of  anger  rising  in  his  breast,  in  consequence  of  counterfeit- 
ing its  external  signs;  and  I  have  little  doubt,  that,  with 
most  individuals,  the  result  of  a  similar  experiment  will 
be  the  same.  Campanella,  too,  the  celebrated  philosopher 
and  physiognomist,  (as  Mr.  Burke  farther  observes,)  when 
he  wished  to  form  a  judgment  of  what  was  passing  in  the 
mind  of  another,  is  said,  to  hare  mimicked,  as  accurately  as 
possible,  his  appearance  at  the  moment,  and  then  to  have 
directed  his  attention  to  the  state  of  his  own  feelings."* 

Furthermore,  as  the  tendency  of  the  emotions  and  passions 
is  to  express  themselves  outwardlj^,  every  suppression  of 
the  outward  signs  operates,as  a  direct  rebuke  and  curtailment 
of  the  passions   themselves.     The  passions,  when  they  are 

•Stewart's  Elements  of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  Vol.  iii. 
Chap.  n.  §.  2d. 


DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL.  387 

excited,  are  of  such  a  violent  nature,  that  they  require  an 
open  field,  a  free,  unencumbered  circuit;  and  they  cannot 
well  exist  in  their  higher  degrees  of  intensity  without  this 
opportunity  of  expansion  and  of  unencumbered  action. 
Shut  them  up,  therefore,  in  the  bosom;  enclose  them  amid 
the  dim  shades  and  the  walls  of  the  penetralia  of  the  soul;  and 
they  will  necessarily  wither  and  die.  When  they  are  thus 
enclosed,  they  will  not  be  more  likely  to  live  and  flourish, 
than  the  tree  will,  that  is  shut  out  from  the  light  of  the  sun, 
and  from  the  genial  airs  of  heaven. 

This  is  a  principle  of  great  practical  consequence  in  the 
government  of  the  passions,  and  of  course  in  the  discipline 
of  the  will.  Never  give  to  the  passions,  (of  course  it  will 
be  understood  that  we  have  no  reference  to  the  mild  and  be- 
nevolent passions,  but  to  the  evil,  and  malignant,  and  angry 
passions,)  an  outward  expression  either  verbal  or  physiog- 
nomical, with  the  exception  of  those  cases,  where  the  actu- 
al state  of  things  does  undoubtedly  require  it.  We  may 
suppose  a  case,  where  we  may  not  only  be  angry  with  a 
person,  but  where  also  it  is  desirable  that  he  should  know 
it;  but  in  a  vast  majority  of  cases,  it  is  exceedingly  better 
that  they  should  be  known  only  to  the  bosom  where  they 
originate.  In  one  of  the  well  known  Resolutions  of  Presi- 
dent Edwards,  which  are  worthy  of  the  attention  of  the 
mere  philosopher  as  well  as  of  the  Christian,  after  resolving 
against  uneasiness  and  fretfulness  in  a  certain  case,  he  re- 
solves further,  never  to  suffer  the  effects  of  such  uneasiness 
or  fretfulness,  "so  much  as  in  the  least  alteration  of  speech, 
or  motion  of  my  eye."  A  strong  intimation,  to  say  the  least, 
how  unbecoming  he  considered  the  outward  expression  of 
the  tinamiable  passions,  and  how  injurious,  in  ordinary  cases, 
he  deemed  such  an  expression  to  the  subject  of  them. 


388  DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL.      ' 

§.  264.   Of  enlightening  the  intellect  in  connection  with  the  dis- 
cipline of  the  wilL 

But  in  order  to  give  the  will  a  suitable  opportunity  of 
action  by  removing  the  obstruccions  in  its  way,  and  especial- 
ly in  order  to  furnish  an  adequate  and  ample  basis  for  its 
operations,  we  must  go  further  back  than  the  Sensibilities, 
which  are  in  immediate  proximity  with  it,  and  consider  it 
in  its  connection  with  the  Intellect.  This  is  a  prominent  and 
leading  view  of  the  whole  subject  of  the  discipline  of  the 
will.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that,  among  the  most  available 
and  decisive  methods  of  aiding  and  regulating  the  action  of 
the  will,  we  must  include  the  illumination  of  the  intellect. 
As  a  general  thing  the  voluntary  power  will  act  the  more 
decisively  in  reference  to  any  given  objectj  in  proportion  as 
such  object  is  the  more  fully  understood.  We  do  not  mean 
to  say,  that  the  perceptions  of  the  intellect  alone,  and  with- 
out any  thing  further,  wili  furnish  a  basis  for  the  action  of  the 
will.  The  intellect  and  the  will  are  entirely  separated  from 
each  other,  as  we  have  already  seen  in  the  First  Part  of  this 
Work.  But  the  intellect  reaches  and  operates,  and  we  may 
say  powerfully  operates,  upon  the  will  through  the  medium  of 
the  sensibilities.  For  instance,  we  are  required  to  pursue  a 
certain  course,  but  it  certainly  cannot  be  expected,  that  we 
should  have  any  feeling  in  the  case,  or  that  we  should  put 
forth  any  action  in  respect  to  it,  until  we  understand  what 
it  is.  Why  is  it  that  men  are  so  inactive,  so  supine  on  sub- 
jects of  the  greatest  moment  to  the  welfare  of  the  whole  hu- 
man race?  It  is,  because  wholly  taken  up  with  their  own 
private  affairs,  they  do  not  give  their  attention  to  them;  they 
do  not  investigate  and  understand  them;  of  course  they  do 
not  feel,  and  being  destitute  of  feeling,  they  do  not  act. 
Hundreds  of  millions  of  the  human  race  are  living  and  dy- 
^ng  without  any  of  those  aids  and  consolations,   which   a 


DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL.  S89 

knowledge  of  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  is  calculated  to  im- 
part. And  yet  it  is  universally  admitted,  both  in  consideration 
of  the  reasonableness  of  the  thing  and  of  the  commands  of  Scrip- 
ture, that  it  is  a  duty  incumbent  on  Christian  nations,  to  see 
that  blessed  Gospel  sent  to  them  without  delay.  But  why  is 
it  that  so  few  feel  in  heart  what  they  acknowledge  speculative- 
ly, and  that  almost  none  are  found  to  offer  themselves  as  per- 
sonal labourers  in  this  great  and  glorious  work.^  It  is  because, 
(at  least  this  is  one  great  and  prominent  reason,  if  it  be  not 
the  only  one,)  their  inquiries  have  been  too  limited;  they  have 
not  explored  the  length  and  breadth  of  that  unspeakable  wretch- 
edness incidental  to  a  state  of  heathenism;  they  have  been 
satisfied  with  generalities  and  abstract  truisms,  without  care- 
fully and  seriously  estimating,  even  in  a  single  instance,  the 
extent  of  that  degradation  implied  in  bowing  down  to  images 
of  wood  and  stone ;  without  sitting  down  and  counting  one  by 
one  the  tears  and  the  groans  and  the  wailings,  the  crime  and 
the  hopelessness  of  the  present  life,  and  the  weight  of  misery 
in  the  life  to  come. 

We  would  illustrate  the  prominent  idea  of  this  section  by 
another  topic.  One  of  the  greatest  evils,  which  has  ever 
afflicted  the  human  race,  is  that  of  war.  But  still  only  a  very 
few  individuals  appear  to  be  fully  awake  to  its  dreadful  atroci- 
ty, and  are  seriously,  and  with  an  earnestness  proportioned  to 
the  importance  of  these  movements,  arraying  their  efforts  and 
their  influence  against  its  continuance.  The  great  mass  of 
mankind  are  indifferent  and  inert.  And  how  can  we  account 
for  it  ?  In  the  same  way  we  account  for  their  indifference  to 
the  spread  of  the  Gospel.  It  is  owing,  (we  do  not  say  wholly, 
but  in  a  great  degree  certainly,)  to  inattention  to  the  subject, 
and  consequent  ignorance  of  it.  They  dwell  upon  a  few  gen- 
eral and  oflen  erroneous  conceptions  of  skill  and  heroism,  as 
they  are  detailed  in  the  pages  of  a  government  Gazette,  but 
they  do  not  bring   distinctly  and  fixedly  before  their  eyes  the 


890  DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL, 

burnings  and  the  devastations  and  the  famine,  which  overspread 
the  country ;  they  do  not  behold  the  v^ounds  and  the  protracted 
suffering  and  the  horrid  forms  of  the  battle  field;  they  do  not 
listen  to  the  mourning  and  the  lamentation  of  the  bereaved  fa- 
ther and  mother,  whose  grey  hairs  go  down  with  sorrow  to  the 
grave.  If  they  would  but  once  consider  the  subject  in  all  its 
facts,  and  in  all  its  bearings,  they  could  not  fail  both  to  feel 
and  to  act ;  they  would  at  once  lift  up  a  note  of  remonstrance, 
which  should  reach  their  rulers,  and  compel  them  to  stop  in 
their  ministrations  of  blood. 

§.  266.  Further  remarks  on  the  same  subject. 

A  multitude  of  similar  illustrations  might  be  brought  for- 
ward. In  almost  any  case  whatever,  if  we  can  induce  a  per- 
son to  examine  a  subject  with  a  view  to  action,  the  work  is 
half  done.  And  what  is  true  of  others,  is  true  of  ourselves. 
If  we  propose  to  act,  we  must  think  seriously  upon  that,  what- 
ever it  is,  to  which  the  proposed  action  relates.  The  proper, 
and  we  may  add,  the  indispensable  preliminary  to  action,  is  in- 
vestigation. We  are  so  constituted,  that  it  is  impossible  for  us 
to  put  forth  a  volition,  without  a  motive,  without  some  antece- 
dent feeling,  without  some  appetite,  some  desire,  some  moral 
feeling  already  existing  in  the  mind.  But  it  is  equally  impos- 
sible, as  has  already  appeared  in  the  chapter  on  the  Relation 
of  the  Intellect  to  the  Will,  that  the  various  emotions  and  de- 
sires should  exist,  without  some  specific  object  perceived  by 
the  understanding,  to  which  such  emotions  and  desires  relate. 
It  is  a  fundamental  law  of  our  nature,  that  there  can  be  no  ac- 
tion of  the  will  without  feeling ;  and  that  there  can  be  no  feel- 
ing without  intellection.  There  is,  therefore,  an  indirect,  but 
a  very  intimate  and  important  connection  between  the  intellect 
and  the  will.  If  we  would  will,  we  must  feel;  and  if  we  would 
feel,  we  must  understand.  As  a  general  thing,  (it  wjll  be  no- 
ticed that  we  do  not  lay  down  the   proposition  as  one^admitting 


DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL.  SQl 

of  no  -exception  whatever,)  the  will  corresponds  to  the  intellect  j 
the  action  of  the  will  is  in  a  line  with  the  action  of  the  intellect ; 
and  changes  in  the  intellect  will  almost  necessarily  induce  cor- 
responding changes  in  the  sentient  and  voluntary  parts  of  the 
mental  constitution.  And  hence  it  happens,  that  what  is  de- 
sired at  one  time,  will  soon  cease  to  be  desired,  when  present- 
ed to  the  mind  in  some  new  light.  What  is  warmly  approved 
at  one  time  will  suddenly  become,  on  further  examination  and 
knowledge  of  all  the  circumstances,  an  object  of  disapprobation. 
And  on  the  other  hand  objects  of  disapprobation  and  aversion 
may  soon  become,  on  further  inquiry,  objects  of  approbation 
and  desire.  In  this  way,  by  exerting  our  powers,  of  inquiry  and 
reasoning,  and  by  presenting  new  facts  to  the  mind,  we  are 
continually  presenting  new  motives,  and  are  indirectly  but  very 
effectively  operating  changes  in  the  action  of  the  voluntary 
faculty ;  and,  (what  is  an  important  circumstance  in  this  con- 
nection,) these  inquiries  are  made,  and  these  changes  are 
brought  about  under  the  direction  of  the  will  itself  And  thus  in 
the  wonderful  constitution  of  the  human  mind  there  are  wheels 
within  wheels;  effective  springs  of  action  operating  upon  each 
other;  motives  regulating  the  will,  and  the  will  taking  a  dif- 
ferent direction  and  regulating  the  motived;  a  rebiprocal  ac- 
tion and  influence  of  each  part  without  detriment  to  its  appro- 
priate nature. 

§.  266.   Of  aiding  the  will  by  a  reference  to  the  regard  oj  others. 

We  may  sometimes  give  strength  to  the  action  of  the  will, 
in  those  numerous  cases  where  we  find  ourselves  vacillating, 
and  uncertain  what  to  do,  by  various  aids  external  to  ourselves. 
As  our  Creator  never  designed,  that  men  should  live  isolated 
from  each  other  and  alone,  so  He  has  admirably  fitted  therfi  up 
with  those  mental  capacities  and  tendencies,  which  are  pre- 
cisely adapted  to  a  state  of  society.  While  he  has  implanted 
within  them  a  strong  desire  for  each  other's  company,  which 


3j2  discipline  of  the  will. 

brings  them  together  in  Communities,  he  has  at  the  same  time 
so  constituted  them,  that  they  naturally  exercise  a  regard  and 
esteem  for  whatever  is  kind,  honourable,  and  upright.  And  it 
is  altogether  suitable  and  just,  that  they  should  avail  themselves 
of  this  arrangement  of  things,  in  whatever  way  it  can  be  made 
subordinate  to  the  discharge  of  their  personal  duties,  and  to  the 
general  perfection  of  their  character.  In  a  single  word  they 
are  at  liberty  to  sustain  themselves  in  any  proposed  course  of 
action  by  taking  into  view,  and  by  receiving,  as  an  encourage- 
ment to  them,  the  favourable  estimates  of  public  opinion. 

We  would  not,  however,  be  understood  to  say,  that  a  re- 
gard to  the  good  opinion  of  others  should  be  the  sole  and  para- 
mount rule  of  conduct;  since  our  constitution  developes  a 
higher  rule,  that  of  the  moral  sense,  to  which  every  other  one 
is  not  only  subordinate,  but  responsible.  Nevertheless  it  is 
undoubtedly  true,  that  a  suitable  regard,  as  has  been  remarked, 
may  safely  and  justly  be  paid  to  the  favourable  opinions  of 
our  fellow  men.  The  regard  and  approbation,  which  they  not 
unfrequently  bestow  on  those  whose  conduct  they  are  called 
upon  to  witness,  is  one  of  those  natural  rewards,  which  the 
Creator  has  appointed  as  an  attendant  upon  virtue.  When, 
therefore,  we  are  strongly  tempted  by  the  influence  of  preju-^ 
dice,  passion,  or  self-interest,  to  pursue  an  erroneous  though 
pleasing  and  favourite  course,  it  is  important  to  aid  the  will  by 
presenting  before  it,  as  a  counteracting  motive,  the  'judgment 
of  enlightened  public  sentiment  ;  remembering  that  there  is 
something  in  the  heart  of  man,  which  is  instinctively  responsive 
to  the  just  and  true  in  human  conduct,  not  only  to  condemn  or 
approve  such  conduct  as  right  or  wrong,  but  to  despise  or  to 
honour  it  as  ennobling  or  as  degrading.  He,  whose  fixed  and 
immoveable  volition  is  always  coincident  with  the  requisitions  of 
immutable  rectitude,  is  cheered  by  the  hearty  and  consentient 
voice  of  the  wise  and  good.  While  he,  who  yields  himself  to 
an  evil  course,  or  even  weakly    vacillates  between  the  right 


DISCIPLINE  OF  THE  WILL.  393 

and  the  wrong,  can  expect  nothing  but  their  aversion  and 
their  frowns. 
§.  267.   Of  aiding  the  will  by  a  reference  to  the  conscience. 

But  particularly,  in  those  conflicts  of  life  where  we  find 
the  will  halting  between  two  opinions,  we  should  refer,  as 
has  already  been  iiitimated,  to  the  consplations  and  guidance 
of  that  higher  power  within  us,  the  Moral  Sense.  It  is  un- 
doubtedly true,  that  we  may  derive  strength  from  an  enhghten- 
ed  public  sentiment;  but  it  cannot  be  denied,  that  public  opin-. 
ion  is  always  changeable,  and  sometimes  wrong.  We  may 
perhaps  admit,  that  in  a  large  majority  of  cases  it  is  just  in  its 
decisions ;  but  still  it  is  obviously  so  imperfect  as  a  rule  of  ac- 
tion, that  we  greatly  need  somfe  other;  not  perhaps  of  a  more 
amiable  aspect,  but  certainly  more  lofty  in  its  bearing,  and 
more  inflexible  in  its  requisitions.  He,  who  constantly  sub- 
jects himself  to  the  influence  of  the  general  rule,  that  con- 
science is  never  to  be  violated,  who  strictly  observes  it  in  small 
things  as  well  as  in  great,  is  a  tower  of  strength  to  himself. 
Beginning  to  feel,  as  if  he  were  in  some  degree  acting  up  to 
the  dignity  of  his  nature,  he  finds  within  himself  a  fountain  of 
joy  springing  up  with  spontaneous  and  everlasting  freshness. 
While  he  builds,  as  it  were,  a  mighty  wall  around  the  will  to 
prevent  its  erring  into  forbidden  paths,  he  at  the  same  time 
gives  it  direct  and  positive  strength  to  pursue  its  onward  and 
allotted  course.  In  all  cases  whatever,  however  we  may  ex- 
plain the  fact,  rectilude  is  strength.  If  it  is  true,  that  knowl- 
edge is  power,  it  is  still  more  so,  that  moral  uprightness  is 
power.  It  will  always  be  .found,  that  he,  who  faithfully  walks 
within  the  magical  circle  of  virtue,  experiences  an  invisible 
protection;  but  when  the  limit  is  once  passed  over,  he  is  left 
to  himself,  and  rushes  headlong.  There  is  profound  wisdom 
in   the  terse   and  emphatic  expressions  of  a  Roman  writer, 

"UBI  SEMEL  RECTO  DEERRATUM  EST,  IN  PRAECEPS  PERVENITUR." 

60 


394  DISCIPLINE    OF    THE     WILL. 

§.  268.   Of  the  aids  furnished  by  the  principle  of  imitation. 

We  here  take  the  liberty  of  recalling  to  the  reader's  notice 
a  remark  already  made  to  the  effect,  that  the  power  of  the  will 
is  a  definite  thing;  that,  although  it  may  not  be  precisely  the 
same  in  every  individual,  it  has  nevertheless,  in  every  case, 
its  fixed  limits  of  capability  and  action;  and  that  we  cannot 
reasonably  expect  from  it  what  is  obviously  beyond  its  ability. 
And  hence  the  propriety  of  always  keeping  in  mind  its  true 
nature,  of  carefully  considering  what  it  can  do,  and  what  it 
cannot  do,  in  order  to  aid  it  in  cases  of  doubt  and  trial  in  every 
possible  way. 

Among  other  directions  important  to  be  kept  in  mind,  we 
may  make  the  further  remark,  that  the  operations  of  the  will 
may  be  greatly  aided  by  availing  ourselves  of  the  principle  of 
Imitation.  Of  the  nature  of  this  principle  we  propose  to  say 
nothing  further  than  to  remark  in  a  word,  that  it  is  an  original 
one ;  and  is  very  extensive  and  powerful  in  its  influence ;  per- 
haps there  is  none  more  so.  Hence  in  common  life,  and  par- 
ticularly on  extraordinary  occasions,  we  find  constant  appeals 
to  it.  When  soldiers  are  on  the  eve  of  a  battle,  the  command- 
er instigates  them  to  the  great  and  decisive  effort,  not  only  by 
the  consideration  of  what  is  due  to  their  country,  but  by  setting 
before  them  the  example  of  others,  who  fell  in  the  renowned 
fields  of  war.  In  the  numerous  and  sanguinary  battles  of  Na- 
poleon, he  rarely  permitted  his  soldiers  to  advance  into  the  con- 
flict without  reminding  them  of  the  great  days  and  heroes  of 
victory,  and  endeavouring  to  inflame  their  courage  and  to  in- 
crease their  energy  by  proposing  for  their  imitation  the  soldiers 
of  Lodi  and  Mai^engo,  of  Jena  and  Austerlitz. 

It  will  be  naturally  understood,  that  we  introduce  this  in- 
stance merely  as  an  example  of  the  power  of  the  principle,  and 
of  the  use  which  has  been  made  of  it.  It  would  be  much  to  be 
lamented,  if  there  were  no  other  examples  than  those  of  a  mili- 
tary kind  to  sustain  in  trial,  and  to  encourage  to  endurance  and 


//     ^         (11    THE         ^r     \ 
DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    ^^||. J  y  j,  ^Jk,  -  ^  ^^1 

effort  in  trying  emergencies.     In  the  ordinary  ^iftls  of  life,  in 
those  perplexities  which  assail  us  from  every  side,  in  those  af- 
flictions both  bodily  and  mental,  which  poor  and  corrupted  hu- 
manity is  heir  to,  we  often  feel  our  best  resolutions  breaking  up 
and  giving  way,  and  we  should  wholly  fall  into  despair,  did  we 
not  draw  encouragement  and  support  from  the  faith  and  forti- 
tude of  those,  who  have  been  in  similar  situations.     Discoura- 
ged and  fainting  we  rest  our   weary  heads  on   the   bosoms  of  ' 
those  who  have  gone  before  us,   and  find  ourselves  refreshed. 
The  Scriptures  themselves  fully  recognize  the  propriety  of  this 
resource,  and   furnish   us  with  some   striking  examples  of  an 
appeal  to  it.     The  author   of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  in 
particular,  seems  to  have  availed  himself  of  this  principle  of  our 
nature.     Afler  mentioning  Abel  and  Enoch  and  Abraham  and 
Moses  and  a  multitude  of  others,  that  great  host  of  olden  time, 
who  subdued   kingdoms,  wrought   righteousness,  stopped  the 
mouths  of  lions,   quenched  the  violence   of  fire,  had   trial    of 
mockings,  scourgings,  and   imprisonment,  and  of  whom,  in  a 
word,  the  world  was  not  worthy,  he   adds,  as  if  he  would  insti- 
gate those  whom  he  addressed  to  follow  an  example    so  glori- 
ous, "wherefore,  seeing  we  also  are  encompassed  about  by  so 
great  a  cloud  of  witnesses,  let   ms   lay  aside  every  weight,  and 
the  sin,  which  doth  so  easily  beset  us,  and  let  us  run  with  pa- 
tience the  race  that  is  set  before  us."     The  sacred  writers  ev- 
ery where  encourage  and  exhort  us  to  follow  in  the  path  of  our 
blessed  Redeemer;   ^'■who  suffered  for  us,  leaving  us  an  example^ 
that  we  should  follow  his  steps.'^     And  how  many,  in  all  ages  of 
the  world,  have   turned  their  weeping  eyes  to   the  Captain  of 
their  salvation ;  and  beholding  him  firm  and  unmoved  in  temp« 
tation,  constant  and  persevering  in  his  labours,  patient  in  suf- 
fering, benevolent  and  forgiving  to    his  enemies,  having   but 
the  one  great  object  of  doing   his   Father's  will,    have  been 
transformed  into  the  likeness  of  his   glorious  imeige,   and  like 
him  have  been  made  perfect  through  tribulation. 


396  DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL. 

§.269.   Of  aiding  the  will  by  placing  ourself  in  clrcum' 
stances  which  do  not  admit  of  a  retreat. 

We  may  sometimes  aid  the  action  of  the  will  by  placing 
ourselves  in  a  position,  from  which  there  is  no  retreat.  We 
sometimes  express  it  by  saying,  that  we  have  taken,  or  are 
about  to  take,  a  decisive  step;  meaning  a  step,  which  is  more 
or  less  an  irretrievable  one;  a  step,  which  fully  and  (complete- 
ly pledges  us  to  a  certairl  course.  We  may  suppose  with  some 
reason,  that  Julius  Caesar,  when  he  approached  the  banks  of 
the  Rubicon,  felt  some  hesitation  and  vacillancy  of  purpose; 
he  scarcely  knew  himself  what  he  was  going  to  do;  his  will 
stood  balancing  on  a  pivot;  and  it  was  uncertain  in  which  di- 
rection it  would  throw  itself;  but  when  he  had  once  passed  the 
small  stream,  that  constituted  the  boundary  of  his  province, 
when,  by  a  [single  movement  onward,  he  had  changed  his  po- 
sition in  relation  to  the  government  of  his  country,  then  all 
was  done;  there  was  no  possibility  of  retreat;  his  purpose  at 
once  became  fixed,  irrevocable,  unchangeable. 

In  many  cases  in  common  life,  when  the  will  is  vacillating 
between  various  objects,  we  may  establish  it  firmly  and  forever 
by  a  step  onward,  by  placing  ourselves  in  a  new  position,  by 
appealing  to  a  Higher  Power  for  the  Uprightness  of  our  inten- 
tions and  making  an  irretrievable  movement.  And  we  have 
here  an  effective  principle  of  action;  one,  upon  the  application 
of  which  the  most  important  issues  have  sometimes  depended. 
The  true  course  of  action,  in  all  cases  where  the  path  of  duty 
is  unquestionably  plain,  and  when  at  the  same  time  the  world 
and  its  allurements  interposes  to  hinder  us  from  entering  into 
that  path,  is,  not  to  sit  down  sluggishly  and  hold  an  inglorious 
parley  with  the  suggestions  of  indolence  and  vice,  but  to  move 
forward,  to  commit  ourselves  at  once,  to  take  a  decided  step, 
to  throw  ourselves  into  the  breach,  and  let  the  consequences 
take  care  of  themselves. 


DISCIPLINE     OF    THE    WILL.  397 

§.  270.  Of  the  effects  of  habit  in  giving  strength  to  the  wilt. 

In  illustrating  that  course,  which  is  to  be  taken  in  order  to 
give  strength  to  the  will,  it  is  proper  and  important  to  bring  in- 
to account  the  great  principle  or  law  of  habit.  Of  the  nature 
and  tendencies  of  this  law  it  is  enough  to  say  in  this  con- 
nection, that  no  other  law  of  our  mental  constitution  is  capa- 
ble of  so  entirely  modifying  the  mental  action  as  this.  We 
often  see  its  results  in  the  case  of  thp  viscious  man,  whose 
unholy  propensities  go  on  strengthening  and  strengthening  un- 
der its  influence,  till  they  assume  the  stubbornness  and  inflexi- 
bility of  iron.  But  .the  principle  in  question  is  as  powerful 
for  good  as  for  evil;  and  we  do  not  fully  understand  the  secret 
of  our  own  strength,  till  we  have  learnt  its  power,  and  how  to 
apply  it.  When  we  set  out  upon  a  course  of  virtue,  our  reso- 
lution may  be  feeble;  not  unfrequently  we  shall  find  ourselves 
faltering  in  our  purpose;  and  it  seems  to  be  with  great  difficul- 
ty that  the  voluntary  power  is  brought  fully  up  into  a  line  with 
that  course,  which  we  deem  it  important  to  pursue.  But  it  is 
the  result  of  the  principle  of  habit,  that  every  act  of  the  will  in 
this  right  direction  gives  vivacity  and  strength  to  the  succeed- 
ing act.  So  that,  if  a  man  once  enters  upon  a  virtuous 
course,  if  he  once  sets  his  foot  into  the  strait  and  narrow  way; 
then  every  step  which  he  takes  will  greatly  increase  the  elas- 
ticity and  the  ease,  the  rapidity  and  firmness  of  his  movement. 

§.  271 .   Of  strengthening  the  Uoill  by  religious  considerations. 

Finally,  we  may  give  great  strength  and  energy  to  the  ac- 
tion of  the  Will  by  means  of  religious  considerations.  Let  it 
ever  be  our  serious  desire  and  determination,  in  the  numerous 
perplexities  and  temptations  of  life,  to  look  constantly  to  that 
benificent  Power,  who  presides  over  the  destiny  of  men  and 
of  worlds,  and  without  whom,  (whatever  human  pride  may  as- 


S98  DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    WILL. 

sert  to  the  contrary,)  there  is  no  race  to  the  swift,  and  no  bat- 
tle to  the  strong.  Every  thing  of  a  religious  nature,  the  good- 
ness of  God,  the  astonishing  condescension  and  love  of  the 
Savior,  the  completeness  and  mercy  of  the  great  plan  of  sal- 
vation, the  shortness  and  rapidity  of  time,  the  solemnities  of 
death,  the  dread  realities  and  pomp  of  the  judgment  day,  a 
boundless  eternity,  the  inconceivable  joys  of  heaven,  and  the 
inconceivable  wretchedness  of  a  rejection  from  God's  favour; 
all  these  things  may  operate  upon  the  mind, either  singly  or  with 
various  forms  and  degrees  of  combination ;  and  as  they  cluster 
around  the  great  principles  of  action,  they  will  be  found  infu- 
sing into  them  an  element  of  vitality,  and  imparting  a  strength, 
which  can  be  derived  from  no  other  source.  The  world  is  full 
of  instances.  In  all  periods  of  the  history  of  the  human 
race,  men  have  witnessed  the  power  of  religious  considera- 
tions in  imparting  patience,  endurance,  and  vigour  of  pur- 
pose. They  have  seen  it  in  the  chamber  of  sickness,  in  the 
solitary  dungeon,  on  the  iron  bed  of  torture,  in  the  flaming  fur- 
nace, in  the  voluntary  exile  among  barbarous  tribes,  in  hun- 
ger and  cold  and  nakedness,  in  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,  in 
desert  islands  and  wildernesses.  Other  considerations  may 
undoubtedly  give  strength,  but  those  of  religion  give  more; 
mere  worldly  motives  may  impart  a  considerable  degree  of 
vigour,  but  the  ennobling  incentives,  drawn  from  the  character 
and  government  of  God,  inspire  an  energy  far  more  intense,  as 
well  as  more  elevated  and  pure.  How  many  have  been  able 
to  say  with  Pellico  in  the  miseries  of  his  ten  years  imprison- 
ment, "religion  taught  me  to  experience  a  sort  of  pleasure  in 
my  troubles,  to  resist  and  to  vanquish  in  the  battle  appointed 
me  by  heaven!  "  How  many  in  a  yet  higher  strain  have  been 
able  to  say  with  the  three  pious  friends  of  the  prophet  Daniel, 
*'  We  are  not  careful  to  answer  thee  in  this  matter.     If  it  be 


DISCIPLINE   OF   THE   WILL.  399 

so,  our  God,  whom  we  serve,  is  able  to  deliver  us  from  the 
burning  fiery  furnace."  How  many  in  all  ages  of  the  world, have 
been  sustained  by  such  unspeakable  energy,  extracted  from  the 
quickening  elements  of  religion,  that  they  could  truly  exclaim 
with  the  poor  and  suffering  Waldenses,  when  encircled  with 
fire  and  sword  in  their  Alpine  fastnesses,  and  hurled  '  'mother 
iviih  infant  down  the  rochs,^^ 

•     *'  Yet  better  were  this  mountain  wilderness 
*'  And  this  wild  life  of  danger  and  distress, 
*'  Watchings  by  night  and  perilous  flight  by  day, 
"  And  meetings  in  the  depths  of  earth  to  pray, 
*•  Better,  far  better,  than  to  kneel  with  them, 
"  And  pay  the  impious  rite  thy  laws  condemn, 

END. 


400  NOTE.   (SECTION    OMITTED.) 

§.   105".    The  fact  of  laws  of  the  will  shown  from  the  regularity 
of  voluntary  contributions  and  of  depos'ites. 

We  request  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  another  fact,  which 
has  a  bearing  on  the  great  subject  of  the  laws  of  the  will.  It 
cannot  have  escaped  the  notice  of  any  one  as  a  peculiarity  of 
modern  times,  that  there  are  a  multitude  of  benevolent  associ- 
ations, whose  receipts  depend  wholly  upon  voluntary  contribu- 
tions. But  notwithstanding  the  fact  of  their  income  being 
wholly  voluntary,  which,  if  experience  had  not  shown  to  the 
contrary,  would  be  exceedingly  discouraging,  they  proceed  in 
their  affairs  with  nearly  or  quite  the  same  confidence,  as  if  they 
had  a  fixed  capital  to  operate  with.  They  send  out  missiona- 
ries, establish  schools,  translate  the  Scriptures,  explore  un- 
known and  barbarous  countries,  plant  colonies,  erect  churches, 
and  engage  in  other  important  and  expensive  undertakings, 
without  a  cent  of  money  except  what  comes  from  voluntary 
gifts.  They  make  their  calculations  beforehand  as  to  what 
they  can  accomplish  in  a  given  time ;  and  not  unfrequently  in- 
cur heavy  expenses  in  anticipation  of  their  receipts.  Their  tru^ 
capital  is  a  knowledge  of  the  operations  of  the  human  mind  un- 
der certain  assignable  circumstances.  These  circumstances 
they  are  in  a  good  degree  acquainted  with;  and  hence  are  en- 
abled to  anticipate  the  amount  of  their  receipts  for  a  given  time 
with  almost  as  much  accuracy,  as  the  merchant  or  farmer,  who 
has  an  actual  capital  already  in  his  possession  to  operate  with. 
Does  not  this  circumstance  go  with  others  to  show,  that  the 
will  has  its  laws  ? 

We  will  not  enlarge  upon  the  subject,  but  merely  observe, 
that  it  reminds  us  of  another  interesting  fact  somewhat  analo- 
gous to  this.  It  is,  that  banks  issue  bills  and  lend  money  upon 
their  deposites,  and  often  to  a  great  amount.  They  take  this 
course  as  they  believe,  and  as  they  have  undoubted  reason  to 
believe,  with  almost  entire  safety.  By  observation  they  ascer- 
tain that  their  customers,  (although  the  ability  of  their  custo- 
mers to  do  it  evidently  depends  on  a  thousand  apparent  contin- 
gencies,) deposite  a  certain  amount  or  nearly  so,  within  a  giv- 
en time.  They  find  as  a  general  thing,  that  the  variation  in 
the  amount  received  in  specified  times,  is  not  greater  than  the 
variation  of  the  receipts  of  an  individual,  who  is  largely  engag- 
ed in  business.  And  they  consider  this  state  of  things  basis 
enough  for  very  extended  transactions.  But  could  this  possibly 
be,  if  the  will  were  wholly  exempt  from  fixed  principles  of  action? 


9#1 4  2B 


CD^^7^fl^flD 


